Saving the Hero
by keelhaulrose
Summary: Hermione doesn't know what to expect when she's asked to help a struggling Tony Stark, but even when she has no expectations she finds Tony is full of surprises.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello again, my lovelies.**

 **This is my submission for this year's Hermione SmutFest over on LJ. I recommend going over there and checking out the fics, because they have been very good this year.**

 **It should go without saying, there are mature themes in this story. It is Hermione/Tony Stark, completed, 6 chapters long, and I will post one a day until it's fully uploaded.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I own Marvel in any of it's forms. I don't feel like messing with either WB or the mouse, nor any of their affiliates. I make no profit from this extremely AU fan work.**

 **This takes place about 7 years post-HP series (excluding the epilogue because no), contains spoilers for the books, and has changed a few facts from DH on. This also takes place a few months after The Avengers, and disregards most of the MCU after that point. Iron Man 3 has not occurred in this fic. Extremely minor mentions of characters from Agents of SHIELD. My prompt was: Hermione is recruited by Nick Fury, not to help stop an alien threat, but to help one of the Avengers in need.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

"Goodnight, Miss Granger," her assistant said with a stifled yawn.

"Goodnight, Jemma," Hermione smiled as she put up some equipment. "I'll see you in the morning, yeah?"

"Bright... but maybe not so early?" the young woman replied hopefully, stifling a yawn.

"Sleep in," Hermione chuckled. "Don't come in until nine thirty."

"Thanks, Miss Granger," her other assistant, a young man, beamed. "Have a good evening."

"You, too, Leopold," she said, putting some things in a messenger bag to take home and looking over as her eager, young assistant shut off most the lights in the room on her way out. Standing up and stretching Hermione took a quick look around, making sure everything was put away before waving her wand and performing a few quick cleaning spells. As she was the only witch working at S.H.E.I.L.D. and still as much of a secret as they could possibly keep her Fury refused to let a janitor into the space. The spells only took seconds, so it really was no matter to Hermione, though she usually performed them after her two assistants left for the day. Jemma Simmons and Leopold Fitz were both bright enough to lead their own teams, but had jumped at the opportunity to work with Hermione after discovering that many of the objects that had once been considered 'alien' were, in fact, magical. They had worked together for almost seven months, after Hermione had joined the Battle of New York and had been approached by Fury before she could even get to a safe Apparation point once the dust had settled. When Nick Fury realized there was a community hidden even from him he begged to have some form of access, and Hermione agreed, so long as the information was passed to as few people as possible. Her life at S.H.E.I.L.D. was never dull, a vast improvement over her time as an Unspeakable. And, after showing off her skills to a very select audience, she wore another, even more secret hat, that of Avenger. .

"I know you're there," she said suddenly over her shoulder to a cracked-open door. "Haven't I mentioned that sneaking up on a witch is not a very bright idea?"

"A couple times," Nick Fury entered the room with long strides, a sign he meant business.

"And yet you still insist on doing it," she said, turning to look at him.

"My building."

"All the good that will do you if I turn you into a chicken," she shot back. "What's going on?"

"I've come to inform you that your time with us has come to an end," he replied carefully.

Her jaw dropped open. "Excuse me?" she asked loudly.

"I've sold your contract. Someone has been begging for you to work for him for a long time, and, after much consideration, I've decided you could do better work there than here."

"What, so you just sell me to the highest bidder?" she hissed incredulously. "Who is this person, and how does he even know about me?"

"Tony Stark," he answered evenly. "He knows about you because he knows about everything, and you are part of the team."

"Tony Stark," she repeated in disbelief. "You sold my contract to Tony Stark?"

"You're now a Stark Industries employee, on paper at least. In reality you're working on the Avengers Project, but that wouldn't look good when it came time to file taxes."

"Why? What possible use could I be of over there? He can't possibly have magical objects he needs me to study, and it's not like any work I do over there could..."

"Other than being part of the team, Miss Granger?" he interrupted. "What happened in New York exposed some very real weaknesses for us. We managed to get through it by a combination of luck, some skill, and Stark's absolutely reckless behavior, but I'm not sure that, if the same thing were to happen today, we'd have the same results. I'm glad you've been able to help us research a few of the things we've brought you, but it's becoming obvious that most of the things you look over, magical or no, are dangerous, and I believe your skills would be of more use developing defenses and weapons for your team than they would be here, just discovering shit we wind up feeding to the slingshot either way."

"But why sell my contract to Stark? Why can't I just work on that stuff here?" she asked, eyes narrowing.

"Because he's requested you work there."

"Has what Tony Stark wanted ever come into your decision making before?" she looked at him skeptically.

"He's got money and resources a government agency could only dream of having, and he's willing to let you have free reign."

"He could give me a grant."

"He wants you there, and I'm inclined to let him have you," he insisted.

"I don't believe you," she said flatly. "If I was working on development here you could still come get me for those things your other researchers are unsure of. If I'm there, you'd have to send potentially dangerous items into the heart of New York to get them to me in my lab, and _that_ seems something that you're more disinclined to do. There's something else, isn't there?"

"I hate how perceptive you are at times, do you know that, Granger?"

"If I weren't perceptive I'd be horrible at my job. What is it you're not telling me?" she demanded.

He took a deep breath, then started, "The truth is that what happened in New York fucked Tony up royally. He saw some shit that would be very difficult for any human to process, and despite what his brain may be telling him he is human and he's having a hard time processing it. As such, he's starting to fall apart."

"I heard his girlfriend left him a few months back," she said softly.

"Pepper Potts put up with a lot of Tony's shit for a very long time, but there's only so much reckless behavior most people are willing to put up with in a partner. Couple the fact that Stark has pushed that boundary several times with the emotional distance he's shown since the battle and I'm not surprised it ended. Her leaving made him worse. And when Stark is in a funk, the team suffers, and, putting it bluntly, we need Stark in the game at all times. Shit is still going down, even if you're not actively engaged, and we don't have time to pull Stark back together if something goes down that needs immediate attention. When Stark is out of it he's less likely to manage one of his close saves and more likely to wreck something needlessly."

"What does this have to do with me?" she asked, confused.

"You and Stark are not so different from each other. Steve was trained for war, Clint and Natasha were trained to fight and kill, Bruce accepts that the Hulk is violent and is dealing with that in his own way, and Thor thrives on battle, but you and Tony got into it only because you had to. Tony stayed with Iron Man because he saw it as a way to help people, but most of the time he's flying around, making shit up as he goes along, and hoping for a good outcome. What he has to do gets to him more than anyone else except you, even Bruce knows he can't let it get to him too much or he risks letting the other guy loose. But you've walked that road, you did things during your war that you never would have done, never would have trained to do, and it affected you even though you know it was the only way you could survive and help people. Stark doesn't need a pep talk from Rogers, he needs someone who can relate to him, someone who has confronted their mortality not as a casualty of war, but as something you must endure for the greater good, both of you have seen stuff out there much larger than yourself and wondered how the hell you're going to deal with it, and both of you have lost someone you love because of it."

She swallowed and glanced behind him at her desk, where a picture of a redheaded boy with his arm around her waved jovially. "What, and you expect him to open up to me? I'm some mystery, preceded by my reputation, he's never met me, only knows of me because I'm a member of the team. I'm nothing more than someone with a magic wand and some cool tricks to him. Why in the hell would he open up to me?"

"That's your job to figure out. We need Stark, Granger, like we need you. But Stark isn't going to accept help like anyone else. He doesn't trust random people, so it'll be up to you to get him to trust you, and to help him after you've earned that trust."

She sighed, but nodded solemnly. "What about Fitz and Simmons?"

"They're being reassigned. The element of surprise is a factor here, Granger, and some people are much easier to get at than you are. We want to keep what you're working on as much a secret as possible, which means cutting down on the staff around it."

"Damn," she breathed.

"Take tomorrow, gather your things and get to New York. You start with Stark on Wednesday."

Without a word she strode to her desk and started to pack things into a box she conjured. Fury turned and started walking out, glad Hermione stopped her questioning when she had. He had come dangerously close to revealing that he knew Tony Stark wasn't the only one who was having difficulties getting over the battles he fought, and that her reassignment wasn't only for Stark's benefit.

XXXXXXX

At exactly nine in the morning that Wednesday Hermione strode through the doors of Stark Tower for the first time, and made a beeline towards the front desk. As she neared it an elevator beeped, and out strode a man wearing jeans and a t-shirt in stark contrast to her perfectly tailored suit. It didn't take a second look for her to know she was looking at her new boss, and she smiled warmly as he approached her.

"Tony Stark," she said, holding her hand out.

"That's my name," he replied, giving her hand a firm shake. "Hermione Granger, I presume?"

"You presume correctly," she nodded.

He made a motion towards the elevator with his head, and she followed him back into the same car he had just left. He waved a card in front of a sensor, which flipped open a compartment, and he pressed his hand to the screen behind and typed in a series of numbers. The doors snapped shut and the elevator lurched into motion.

"I don't know why, but I was expecting a witch to be a little more conspicuous," he said, studying her as they sped upwards. "Like green skin or a pointy hat. I'm not sure if I should feel cheated out of the experience, or suspicious that everyone I meet is a a witch or wizard."

"Being so obvious would make it somewhat difficult to move about in public, don't you think?"

"I supposed that's true."

"I could turn my skin green, if that would make you more comfortable," she smiled.

"I don't think it would do anything for you, you don't have the coloring for it, not to mention you lack the warts. That and I work with a guy who is green every so often, and it's not very attractive," he chuckled as the door opened six floors shy of the top, into a spacious, modern looking lab. "Well, I should get the welcome spiel over with. Hello, and welcome to Stark Industries. I'm glad you finally decided to join us, and I look forward to working with you."

"Well, that was a bit stiff. Am I speaking to some sort of hologram?" she asked with a coy smile.

"I do sound a bit like a training video when I say that, don't I?" he shook his head. "Anyways, this is your lab, and it comprises this entire floor. Fury told me you aversion to video surveillance, so I've disabled and removed all the equipment that records on this level, though it still has some high tech security measures to make sure that no one you or I don't want here ever gets in and, if they do, we know who they are. This lab comes equipped with, well, I'm going to admit now I didn't really know what you might want in here, so I stocked it with your basic equipment and figured you can tell me what else you might need so I can order it for you, or you can order it for you and I can pay for it in the event that it's magical. Do witches and wizards use normal money?"

"No, we have a world-wide system of currency and our own banking system. However money we get from the Muggle world can be turned into our currency, and vice versa. Money is money, the goblins don't really care about what kind."

"Goblins?"

"Er... yes, goblins run our banks."

He looked at her in disbelief for a moment.

"If you look at me like that for every mythical creature we're going to have a problem when I turn in my supply request and you see dragon blood," she quipped.

His eyes widened for a heartbeat, but then he cleared his throat and moved on. "I did give you some basic equipment in here, hopefully enough to get you started on something. Fury mentioned you have a complicated relationship with computers..."

"I hate them, and I don't think they care for me, either," she muttered. "Magic, as a rule, interferes with electronics, so we don't use them very often. I also seem to have a talent for wrecking computers, and they seem as inclined to stop working when I'm in the middle of something important. I used to have an assistant who recognized a damsel in distress and came to my aid."

"Well, it's not a human assistant, but I got you Elphaba," he smiled, pressing a button.

"Good morning, Miss Granger," a pleasant, disembodied female voice sounded from a console in the corner.

"Elphaba?" she raised an eyebrow.

"After the Wicked Witch. I meant to come up with a clever acronym so it didn't just sound like I was implying you were wicked, but I got distracted," he shrugged. "She's modeled after my Jarvis, not quite as slick so there are less electronics for you magic to interfere with, and she assumes nothing about your technological knowledge."

"So if I needed to send an e-mail..."

"Give me a name, and I will find the e-mail address, type it, and send it for you, Miss," Elphaba replied.

"This may be the beginning of a beautiful friendship," she smiled, then turned back to Tony. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he nodded. "Now, from what I hear you'd be happy if I dumped a giant employee handbook on your lap and let you read it, but that's really not my style, so work hours are from nine..."

"Work hours are when I come in until when I leave. I promise you that you'll get more than your money's worth."

"Okay, work is when you want to work," he nodded. "Dress code is whatever you want to wear..."

"Oh, thank Merlin," she muttered, pulling her jacket off and unbottoning the top two buttons of her blouse. "I bloody hate suits."

"I'm personally okay with the way you look now. You know, feel free to take the blouse off if it gets too warm in here, I could turn the heat up..."

"I'll dress more comfortably tomorrow," she rolled her eyes.

"Alright, then. Two weeks paid vacation to start, I know you're from London, so I'll up it to four after a year so you can spend more time at home. Pay is every other week, I promise I'll pay better than the government, any government. Medical, dental, all that fun stuff. Stay home if you're sick... let's just say if you keep up on your work I'll pretty much let you do whatever the hell you want whenever the hell you want to do it. That's how it works for Banner, who, by the way, is stationed in the lab above you, so you may want to make sure you keep loud, unexpected noises to a minimum when he's around. Or not, it could be fun."

"I'm actually okay without that particular brand of fun," she said with a smile and shake of her head.

"Okay, then, I'll get the handbook when I get around to it. Now, down to the important stuff. What ideas do you have in your head?"

"Well, most of my current ideas involve the team as individuals, though I have a couple group ideas. I'd like to develop a way for Steve to control the trajectory of his shield, to be able to change it mid-flight if a target moves or another presents itself. I think Clint would benefit from a quiver that never ran out of arrows. Natasha could probably use a disguise that changes her complete appearance at the touch of a button, not just her face with a biomask, I mean everything from her height and weight down to minor details, like her fingerprints. And, for the group, I think we could benefit from a way that we could contact each other that can't be dropped, destroyed, or hacked. And a quick-healing potion. The ones I have work, but they're slow."

He nodded, looking impressed. "I'm assuming many of those things would take a bit of magic."

"Well, I am a witch," she smirked. "I think there are viable Muggle alternatives for some of them, but I think it would be best to make a magical version first, as I could do that quicker as it's what I understand, and work on the Muggle version when I have more time for experiments and someone working with me who knows technology a little better. However, I'm pretty sure a quiver that replicates arrows indefinitely is, at this point, going to be a strictly magical contraption."

"You certainly have that right," he nodded. "There has been some talk abut 3D printing, but I'm pretty sure at this point it not only is too large to be portable, but also too slow to make arrows at the rate Clint can shoot them. So, any questions?"

"A million, but none of any particular importance right now. I'm sure many of them will be answered as I start working, and I'm sure Elphaba won't let me struggle."

"That she won't. And she will also compile a list of what you need, so just tell her anything that comes to mind. I've got Cap's shield up in my lab, but I've got a few other things I'm working on, so I'll get it down to you as soon as possible. Anything you need, I'll be up top," he said with a vague motion upwards. "This," he added, tossing her a badge, "will get you onto any floor, including Bruce's, because he wants to meet you when he gets back from wherever the hell he is. You and I have the only two that will open the elevator on this floor, just a bit of added security, and you have to type in a code as well, Elphaba will set that up with you so it's a code you'll remember. If you walk through _that_ door," he pointed to a heavy door to one side, "there's a small room that could be used as a bedroom. I kind of put those in because Bruce has a tendency to need a nap or two, but he abuses the privilege and lives there when he's in the city. Schematic for the building is by the elevator, because of the security in your floor you're either going to have to eat in the cafeteria, bring your own stuff up, or go up to the party deck, that area is always open if you need a break or a drink. Feel free to contact me with any questions or anything you need, I'll try to answer in a timely matter, though I can't make any promises there."

"I'm sure I'll be fine," she nodded.

"I'll check up on you. How about dinner at the end of the week to discuss how things are going? Friday, say, nine o'clock?"

"I'm looking forward to it."

"Welcome to Stark Industries, Miss Granger."

"Hermione," she corrected. "Miss Granger sounds like what my professors used to call me. And, frankly, they were much more intimidating than starting this new job."

"Have I not been intimidating?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Maybe I should leave the room, try again."

"One of my professors was a known member of the Death Eaters who killed the headmaster and came back as the new headmaster the next year," she replied calmly. "And one year we were taught by an escaped convict in disguise. And I should probably mention the werewolf..."

"What the hell kind of schools do they run in England? I thought all the schools were prissy exclusive boarding schools."

"It _was_ a very exclusive boarding school," she replied cheekily before turning and walking towards her desk. "You should see the public schools," she called over her shoulder before asking Elphaba to help her check her e-mail.

Tony watched her for a moment, nodded twice, and left in the elevator.


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione spent most of Wednesday ordering supplies, and most of Thursday setting up her lab, but every moment she could spare was spent studying Steve's shield, making copies that were of the same size and weight, but she couldn't copy the vibranium adimantium alloy perfectly, so she had to settle for as close as possible, knowing she would use these to perfect her design before risking performing magic on the real thing. She didn't hear a thing from Tony through Friday evening, though she knew he must be getting and approving her equipment requests as she was often called to the lobby for a delivery. Since he hadn't mentioned anything else about dinner again she assumed that he had canceled without telling her, and at eight-thirty stepped off the elevator into his lab to put the shield back in place before leaving for the weekend. As she walked through she noticed something that made her heart drop: liquor bottles were hidden around the room, some of them hidden more skillfully than others, though she could still see the curve of the bottom or a neck of a bottle behind some equipment. Of the ones she could see none were left untouched. Her job, her _secret_ job, might be a little more involved than she originally thought.

She laid the shield carefully on an open counter and turned to walk out when the elevator dinged and the doors slid open.

"There you are," Tony smiled as he walked out, and the tone in his voice made it abundantly clear that he had known exactly where she was. "Are you ready to go?"

"Oh!" she said in surprise. "Um, yes. Just one minute, let me..." she pulled her wand and tapped the t-shirt she was wearing, turning it into a fitted blouse, then turned the jeans she was wearing into a skirt that fell to just above her knee, and finally her trainers into a set of high heeled boots. One more wave of her wand turned her trainers to ankle boots, and she reached into her beaded bag for a jacket.

"Now I'm ready," she said with a smile.

"That... was..." he was looking at her with wide eyes. "Did you just completely change in front of me without taking off a single piece of clothing?"

"Magic," she said, twisting her wand between her fingers.

"Could you do it again?"

She responded by changing the blouse to a sweater.

"That is fucking incredible," he chuckled. "Do something else, wait, let me give you one so I know it's not just some kind of illusion. Do a Yankees jersey."

She obliged with a smirk.

"A tuxedo shirt," he ordered, and he shook his head as she followed direction yet again. "A bustier," he commanded again.

She shot him a look and turned it back to the blouse.

"Worth a shot," he smiled. "Shall we?"

"After you," she nodded.

They took the elevator down to street level where a car was waiting. He helped her in and climbed in next to her, and the car took off without an instruction, and Tony busied himself with a phone call for a few minutes.

"How are things in your lab going?" he asked as soon as he hung up.

"As well as could be expected," she replied. "It's hard to tell because I haven't got down to much work yet. I've been keeping myself busy setting everything up and figuring out how it works. Elphaba has been a tremendous help with that, so I must thank you."

"No need to mention it," he replied with a quick smile. "It would be a shame if we wound up losing a brilliant mind because our technology was frustrating her."

"All the same, thank you," she said firmly. "Honestly, I was so upset at Fury for letting me go that I was prepared to spend the first few weeks here being frustrated and bitter. You have made the transition as easy as possible."

"As easy as possible? What problems have you been having?" he asked as they pulled up to a building. He helped her out, and she held her reply until he led her into an elevator.

"Apparently my name doesn't have enough clout to get a real estate agent willing to work with me in the evenings or the weekends," she said with a frustrated sigh as the elevator took them towards the top. "They want to meet during the day, and save those times for clients they think have more money than I do. I don't like leaving work early, so it's been a bit of a power struggle. I managed to get an appointment in about two and a half weeks. I guess it's partially my fault, but I feel like if I'm going to stay in New York a while I should invest in a place rather than merely find a place to live, which means looking in some of the more, what was that word the snooty assistant used? Ah, 'exclusive' areas of the city."

"Seems wise," he murmured as they exited the elevator on the top floor. A host immediately recognized Tony and waved him to the front of the small crowd of people.

"We have your table ready for you, Mr. Stark, if you'd just follow me..." the host started, grabbing two menus.

"Actually, I have to make a quick phone call," Tony interrupted. "Show Miss Granger, and I'll join her in a minute."

Hermione looked at him curiously before following the young man through a modern-looking bar, up a flight of stairs, and out onto a rooftop. Tables, large umbrellas, and palm trees were illuminated by strings of overhead lights and lights wrapped around the trees. She was led through a throng of people to a two-top table tucked in a semi-private corner, where men and women in business garb barely gave her a second glance as she sat. A few minutes later Tony joined her, flashing her a smile.

"Sorry about that. Red or white?" he said, then ordering a bottle of her preference without looking at the list from a waiter who seemed to have followed him. They chatted idly before ordering, and Tony waited until they had appetizers before changing the topic to something more serious.

"So," he started. "Tell me a little about Hermione Granger. I know what the agents had on you, but, if we're being honest, they didn't seem to know you much better than your address."

She thought for a moment before answering, "I am a well-to-do, genius, war-heroine, social justice advocate."

He chuckled. "Good answer," he nodded. "Mind if I pick them apart one-by-one?"

"You can try," she replied with a coy smile. "I may need a bit more wine to reply."

"Well-to-do?"

"I haven't done the galleon to dollar conversion in a while," she admitted. "A few million, at least. Enough to live comfortably for a long while if I'm careful."

"Pretty good for a government worker who isn't getting their palms greased by special interest groups," he raised an eyebrow.

"Most of that was before I started working for Fury. I wrote a couple books about my experiences, they sold very well, and one is required reading at nearly every magical school. I had been crossing the world, giving speeches for years before Fury found me, and I got a good fee for each. I also got a large settlement from an old family for something that happened to me at their house, and another from their relative for actually performing the deed, though much of that money went to my social justice work."

"You know I'm going to ask what the settlement..."

"Torture," she interrupted sharply. "And that's all you're going to hear," she said, and he noticed her left arm flexing awkwardly.

"Okay. The genius part I get, so shall we move on to war-heroine?"

"I thought that would be pretty obvious as well. And something best kept for a more private audience," she said, glancing at a young businessman who was staring at them.

"Ah. I see. And the social justice warrior?"

"Well, where I'm from there are several different... races that are treated quite poorly because of their race. Much of my work has been securing their rights and privileges. It's not quite where it needs to be, but it's in a much better place than it was at the end of the war. But that reminds me that I need the twenty-third off to meet with some high-ups in the Ministry about one of the bills I helped introduce."

"Have to love a woman whose idea of helping out the less fortunate doesn't mean merely cutting a check and moving on," he saluted her with his wine glass. "So, these speaking arrangements, is that how you came to catch the eye of Fury?"

She looked around and cast a discrete _muffliato_ charm. "Indirectly. I just so happened to be in New York the day that all hell broke loose. I was staying in a hotel not far from Stark Tower, and because the Statute of Secrecy is somewhat forging when lives are on the line I rushed outside to help evacuate people and do what fighting I could. Fury apparently has eyes everywhere, and caught video of me performing magic, and my only surprise is that, in a city as populous as this one, I'm the only one who came out to fight. Because I live more or less as a Muggle it didn't take him long to get my name and address from my driver's license, and he was waiting at my front door when I returned."

"And you willingly went with him?"

"Call it foolish Gryffindor bravery. I saw what was out there, and jumped at the chance to help, even though it meant spending most of my time in an lab. That part was research, which was fascinating enough that I didn't mind that world-saving opportunities haven't come up as of yet."

"It'll get there," he replied with a forced smile. "How about your free time?"

"Don't you think we've focused enough about me? You answer, first."

"You've seen my free time," he chuckled. "My work is my free time, especially now that..." he trailed off, his face falling.

"I guess building technologically advanced structures does take up a little more time than reading, which is all I manage to do with my extremely limited free time."

"Oh, come on, Granger, there's got to be more than that. Are you seeing anyone?"

"I've had a date here and there, but nothing that really turned into something more."

"Sounds frustrating."

"In some ways, yes, but in others... I'm doing well."

He raised an eyebrow.

"I haven't found it difficult to find a bedfellow when one is needed," she continued slowly, wondering why she was even admitting the information at all. "That part has never been difficult, all you need is a physical connection for a few hours, and if physical is all you're looking for it opens your options to those with whom you have no emotional or intellectual connection."

"Are you happy with that... lifestyle?" he asked, sounding unlike Tony.

"Between it and work most of my needs are met. An emotional connection would be nice, but I'm not willing to force that. So far none of my dates have been my type."

"What is your type?"

"Hoping I say 'billionaire, genius, playboy philanthropists'?" she shot back, taking a quick drink to cover up the fact that she hadn't meant to say that out loud.

He raised an eyebrow before taking an extended sip of wine and not responding.

She quickly changed subject and they discussed her work and how she was finding her transition to New York, which held them over for the rest of the meal. Once he had paid he led her back to the car.

"Where are you staying?" he asked as they climbed in.

"The Residence Inn in Midtown," she directed her reply at their driver, who nodded, put up the partition, and pulled into traffic.

"You're staying in a hotel?" he asked.

"As I mentioned, I haven't had time or assistance to look for something more permanent, and to be fair I've only been here a couple days. But it's starting to get to the point where I'm paying as much for the hotel room as I would for rent on a nice place. Fury gave me a stipend, but I'm not sure where he thought I'd be able to stay with the minuscule budget he offered."

"That's how the government works," he smiled. "Fury, his bosses, they all get the nice hotel rooms when they move around the country, but when it's someone on one of the lower rungs they're lucky if they get out of their room without being bit by something. As for your problem with the realtors, keep Saturday open, you and I are going to go house hunting. I'll be by at one to pick you up."

"You don't have to..." she started, but he quickly cut her off.

"I want to," he assured her. "I told you that you are more than welcome to move into the Tower if you want, but I also understand not wanting to live where you work. I think you have a bright idea wanting to invest in a place, and if you need a name to help you get your foot in the door, I'm willing to provide it. I need to get out of the tower for a few hours either way."

"Thank you very much," she smiled at him.

A few minutes later he held the door for her as she entered her hotel, and watched her as she disappeared inside. As he rode back toward Stark Tower he pondered Hermione Granger. No one would dare say he was over Pepper by a long shot, but he was slowly starting to come to terms with the fact that she wasn't coming back. Since she had left the only concern he had regarding the female gender was making sure he stayed on Romanoff's good side, but Hermione seriously threatened that status, and it wasn't helping that he was seeking out her company.

XXXXXXX

That Saturday Tony found himself in the unusual position of being mostly ignored as the enthusiastic realtor spent a few hours taking them around to six different units. His name had gotten Hermione the appointment, but she had quickly taken over and made it abundantly clear that she was looking to buy for herself, not Tony, and it was her they were looking to please. It wasn't, strictly speaking, necessary for him to be there, but he found himself justifying his involvement to himself by saying it got him out of his routine for a while. Deep down he knew he was lying to himself; he was there only to spend more time around Hermione.

"I've left the best part of this unit for last," the realtor said with a flash of perfectly straight, white teeth, while opening a set of french doors that led from the bedroom to a private patio surrounded by six-foot privacy walls covered in ivy. Hermione's eyes lit up as she walked out into the sun and looked around at the space, which contained an area for a small pond and a patch of dirt ready for planting. She stood in the middle and turned slowly, and Tony could tell she was already decorating the space. He kept himself from smiling, the condo was beautiful and the patio was nearly unheard of for the city. It would be a safe bet to think Hermione was already wondering when she could move in. As the women discussed a few things Tony quickly started pulling up information on the property on his phone, starting to feel the excitement of a possible business deal building, a feeling he was sure no one who ever owned a business would ever be able to shake.

"A few moments?" Hermione asked the realtor.

"Of course," the woman smiled, retreating into the condo.

"What do you think?" she turned to him, looking genuinely interested in his opinion.

"It has a lot of things going for it," he said, trying to sound analytical. "A space like this will probably only go up in price, and you're going to be hard-pressed to find another patio like this in this area of the city."

"You sound like my financial adviser," she sighed. "Tell me what you think as a friend."

"As a friend?" he smiled, looking bemused. "Okay, as a friend who has known you less than a week, I think this is a good area for a single woman, not that you need any help in the safety department. I know you don't know a lot of people in the area, and the interior isn't so big that it welcomes giant parties, though if you add your space out here you could throw a good-size party if you wanted. I do know you work a fair amount, and I know that people who live alone and spend most of their time at work don't want such a big space that it gets away from them..."

"Says the man with a bloody tower," she smirked.

"Okay, we're playing like that? Fine. You want my honest advice? If you don't buy this place, I will. It would make a good place to put up business associates, and it would be a good investment. And, to be honest, I trust you to do something good with this patio so I can hang out here and drink when I need a quiet place to forget I'm in the middle of a major fucking city."

"Fair price fifty thousand under asking?"

"One hundred. I'd offer one fifty under, you'll probably wind up at about one. It has only been on the market a few weeks, so they're not going to want to wiggle, but they've already moved out, so that means that they're probably paying on a place that they aren't living in. That means they won't want to wiggle, but once you find their squealing point they'll jump. Quick look at the market shows that the market around here is a bit stagnant, unsurprising after the whole invasion thing, people are a bit more cautious about buying expensive condos if they're afraid they're going to wind up with an alien invader breaking in, and a few companies took their business out of the city proper, and their execs moved with them, so there are a fair few properties in this price range in this area up for sale, so you can always threaten to keep looking."

"Okay," she nodded. "Stay here, I'll be right back."

He watched her go inside and talk to the realtor for a few minutes, who smiled and immediately got on her cell phone. Hermione came back out and looked around the patio again.

"It is quite lovely," she said softly. "A good size to have my friends come by to visit, but not have anyone spending their vacation staying with me."

"Your magic friends?" he asked.

"Yes. That's why I insisted on only looking at condos with fire places, I need something that will connect to the Floo, since Apparating in and out of a Muggle building is a good way to get in trouble with law enforcement."

"I'm going to pretend I know what you just said because I really don't like not knowing," he frowned.

"Magical transportation. Apparating is like teleporting, but you don't need electronic equipment, and using the Floo is moving from one magically-connected fireplace to another. Also like teleporting, but with much more soot."

"That would be an interesting sight," he mused.

"Would you like to see it?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Excuse me?"

"There's a magical community not too far from here," she said with a coy smile. "I could take you after I get a few things settled with all this."

"Magical community?" he sounded skeptical.

"Yes. There's an entrance in an old book shop, and it takes you to a hidden road with the shops."

"How could I possibly say no to that?" he smiled.


	3. Chapter 3

It took Hermione some time with the realtor, and by the end of it to call Tony anxious would be a complete understatement. He was constantly fidgeting during the ride to the book shop, and had one foot out of the car before it had come to a full stop.

"You're not wearing that suit right now, you know that, right?" she asked as he helped her out. "You're going to bloody kill yourself if you climb out of a moving car like that."

"I am rich and famous," he shot back as they crossed the sidewalk into the shop. "That usually means I get bumped to the front of the line if I ever need to go to the emergency room."

"There's only so much they can fix," she pointed out.

"True. Luckily I am with a..."

"Shhh!" she hushed him as they slid past a couple in their twenties, and headed toward the back. A man of about thirty sat at the desk. Hermione noticed that, to the unobservant eye, he appeared to be thumbing through a vintage comic book, but she saw his fingers never actually touched the pages.

"Excuse me," she started in a soft voice. "I'm looking, I believe, for something in the Occult section. Something that may open doors to a newcomer."

The man looked up at her, and by the look of surprise on his face she could tell he recognized her. "Sure," he said, pointing over his shoulder to a room shrouded by a curtain just thick enough to be opaque. "We have an excellent series on Merlin, though, to be honest, I'd start on the third book."

"Thank you," she nodded, making sure the coast was clear before taking Tony by the hand and leading him past the curtain.

"Was he a...?" Tony started.

"Wizard," she nodded. "And I'd be willing to wager you have to be one to get past that curtain, considering these books," she said, pointing a biography of Dumbledore, "are decidedly not for Muggles. Help me find a series about Merlin, the third book will open the door to the shops."

It took a couple minutes before Tony found the book and slid it from its spot.

"Nothing happened," he said, sounding disappointed.

"That's because this isn't some mystery novel where pulling out the proper book will make the stack rotate," she smiled, putting the book away. "You need to have magic," she said, taking her wand and tapping the book.

The shelves slid easily into each other as the hidden door to the shops opened, and Tony was struck still as he looked around.

"How the hell did you hide all this in the middle of New York city?" he asked, dumbfounded.

"Magic," she chuckled. "Now, are you just going to stare?"

"Not a damn chance," he said, grabbing her wrist and pulling her toward the first shop on their right. "What's this place?" he demanded.

"Quidditch supplies," she said, pointing to the sign above.

"Quidditch?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Sport played on brooms," she replied.

"Brooms? Like, flying brooms?"

"Come on," she said, taking his hand to pull him inside. She came to a display of brooms and picked one up, then dropped it, where it stopped and floated at hip-height.

"It's flying," he said in disbelief.

"Yes, well, more floating at the moment. I'm pretty sure you're not allowed to ride them in the shops," she replied as something golden zipped between them.

"What was that?" Tony asked, turning his head to try to catch a glimpse of it.

"Golden snitch," she answered, scanning the room, then pointing to a far corner where the tiny winged ball was hovering. "Interesting they have one just zipping about. Must be one that's already been used."

"Good spot there," came a pleasant voice from behind them, and they turned to see a tall, muscular woman of about fifty standing there, wearing a t-shirt with a faded logo of the American National Quidditch Team. "Maximus gave me that after the Finches won the league for the fifth time. His way of inviting me onto the national team. Marielle Solstrum, beater."

"Nice to meet you. I'm..."

"Don't need any announcement on who you are," she beamed. "I had tickets for your talk before all hell broke loose, and my kids have your books. My youngest is crazy about you, she's going to go crazy to hear you were in the shop. Good to meet you, too, by the way, Mr..." she held her hand out to Tony, who was surprised not to be recognized.

"Tony Stark," he said slowly, giving her hand a quick shake.

"Tony Stark..." she muttered, as if she were trying to place where she heard the name. "Oh! You're the guy with the metal suit!"

Tony let off a chuckle of disbelief. "Yes, I am, in fact, the guy with the metal suit."

"I hate to ask, Miss Granger," she turned back to Hermione. "Could I trouble you for a photo?"

"Of course," she said, quickly running her fingers through her hair to try to straighten it as Marielle held a camera out to Tony, asking if he'd take the picture. Hermione took the camera and pressed it into his palm when he hesitated.

"Oh, a classic," he muttered, turning the older-looking camera in his hand a couple times as Hermione and Marielle staged the photo so it would look good on the shop's wall. A few minutes later they exited the shop, and Tony shot a look at Hermione.

"Many witches and wizards don't trouble themselves with what's going on in the Muggle world," she said softly. "You're standing in one of the few places on the planet where you are less well-known than your companion."

"Really?"

"Yes, really," she nodded, pulling him toward another shop. "Now, come on, I want to show you the sweet shop. Just... don't try anything until I explain it, okay?"

"Do I want to know why?" he asked, as they entered, and she steered him toward a display that had a small bowl of jelly beans to sample.

"Because you never know what you're going to get," she said, using some tongs to shift through until she found one she was willing to try. Tony, on the other hand, plucked the first one his fingers came to. He took a bite and made a face.

"This tastes like scrambled eggs," he said, looking at her.

"I thought this one was strawberry," she said, wincing. "I was wrong. Sriracha."

"Who in the world thought up these flavors?" he asked.

"Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans," she pointed to the display. "They aren't kidding when they say that, either."

"These are sadistic," he said, picking up another and taking a cautious bite. "Is this grass?"

"Probably," she replied, conjuring a glass of water and drinking it quickly. "And if you think they're sadistic you should probably stop eating them before you get an ear wax flavored one."

He quickly pulled his hand back from the display. "Do me a favor, Granger?"

"Yes?"

"Don't tell Thor about these," he smirked, picking up a box. "I'm going to convince him they're an Earth delicacy."

"That is evil. Please tell me when you do it so I can be prepared to run or laugh, depending on the circumstances."

"What other fun candies do you have around here? I have a few other people who could use a surprise on my list."

She spent the next few minutes explaining some of the different sweets, and he happily chose an armload to buy. She took some of his money and swapped it for her magical coins so he could make the purchase, and he eagerly kept the change.

"How often are you going to come across money like this?" he said, turning a Galleon over in his hand.

"I guess the chances increase the more time you spend around me. There's one more shop I'd like to show you, then I'll treat you to dinner."

"Lead on," he nodded.

It took a bit of effort to convince him not to stop at the owlery, apothecary, and wand shop, but when he saw the bright facade of the shop they were heading toward he seemed to forget all the other shops.

"What is this place?" he asked as they paused outside.

"Weasleys Wizard Wheezes. It's a joke shop, owned by one of my friends from back home. And I'm not going to stop out here, if it's all the same to you," she said, opening the door.

"Welcome to Weasleys Wizard... oh! Hullo, Hermione!" the girl in the magenta robe behind the counter beamed. "Haven't seen you in a while!"

"Hullo, Verity," Hermione smiled back. "You're over here now?"

"George wanted someone he knew and trusted running the shop, and I was ready to get away from London for a while. So he promoted me to manager over here."

"Brilliant. How long have you been here?"

"Since we opened, about a year ago. Here for a visit?"

"Just moved myself, actually. Got a job working for Stark Industries. I'm showing my boss, here..." she turned but saw Tony was no longer next to her, and smiled as she saw him examining the Skiving Snackboxes. "He's not used to these sort of products," she said in a low voice. "Bringing him round the shops has been very interesting."

"How do these work?" Tony called to her.

Hermione shot Verity a 'told you' look, and went over to him. "You eat the one side, and it makes you sick, then, after you've left class or work or whatever you're avoiding you take the other side, which heals you, and go about your day."

"And which of these would you say would be best to get you out of, say, a board meeting or if Fury or Agent should come around?"

"Mr. Stark," she scolded with a smile. "As a concerned employee I must insist on making sure you are doing what's best for your company."

"I did what's best when I handed it off to Pepper. However, Fury seems to think my requests that he talk to her about all matters does not apply to him, and he calls me whenever the urge hits."

"You are focused on his project at the moment, are you not?"

"Yes and no. It's really more my project, since Fury abandoned it on paper."

She sighed. "Working for this organization has been like moving into the Slytherin dormitory. You are a cunning and devious lot."

"It's how the game has to be played," he said as they wandered the aisles a bit more. "No one is going to officially sanction what we do, that would be idiotic. But no one is going to stop us from, say, stopping an alien invasion because the world needs heroes, but when shit settles they don't want their name attached, because if something happens to go wrong they have to answer."

"But you're visible," she pointed out.

"I don't mind being a thorn in sides, and I'm not working for any particular government, at least, not directly and not in any capacity anyone knows about. Basically, I don't give a shit," he added with a smile.

"I'm starting to think that 'not giving a shit' is the way to go in some of these circumstances. Come along, there's actually a reason I came to this shop and it's not for nostalgia. They have a couple thing I think I could use in my research."

She led him to a room in the back where the shop held the items one might use in defense. "These items sold well enough during the war that the shop was able to start back up once it was over. No one buys them much now, but they fly off the shelves in troubled times," she said, gesturing around the room. "I want to get a couple of these," she continued, picking up some hats, cloaks, and gloves, "so I can try to replicate the spells and see if there's something I could do to make them activated by Muggles."

"What do those do?" he asked.

"This," she said, and without hesitation she put one of the hats on her head and tapped it with her wand, going completely invisible.

"Granger?" he asked, reaching his hand out to where she had been a second before. His hand made contact with fabric and he slowly started running his fingers along it.

"Still here," she muttered. "Just invisible."

"That would be a hell of a useful bit of technology," he murmured, running his fingers back up her invisible body. It was only when his fingertips started to glide over the swell of her breast that he realized what he was doing and hastily pulled his hand away.

"Sorry," he muttered.

She came back into view as she pulled the hat off. "It's alright," she replied.

For a long moment they stood, staring at each other, each trying to decipher what just happened. What did she mean by 'alright'? Did she merely not mind that his hand had touched her breast, or was it more than that? Did she _want_ him to touch her? If she did, would he want to touch her again? What did that one moment mean?

He cleared his throat and looked away, feeling like a chided schoolboy called out for ogling the girls in class. "What's this stuff?" he asked, pointing to a box filled with what appeared to be fragile looking rocks.

"The other thing I wanted to buy," she said. "Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder. I'm not sure how I could improve upon it, but I think it would be handy to have around."

"You can't just leave it at that..."

"It does this," she said, breaking off a small piece, crushing it between her fingers, and throwing it into the air. Instantly the room went dark.

"How long does it stay like this?" he asked, a little louder than was necessary.

"With as much as I used? A few more seconds," she replied. "The more you use, the longer it lasts. There are some ways to see through it, but none of them are Muggle from what I remember."

Slowly light filtered back into the room, and a few seconds later the effects completely wore off. She saw Tony staring at the box, a distant look on his face.

"What are you thinking?" she asked.

"I think we need to test this stuff," he said, picking some up. "See if night vision or infrared is any good in it. I'm also completely redesigning the Mark armor in my mind, trying to find a good place to keep this stuff that won't get knocked and send me into darkness unexpectedly."

"I'll get two bags, then. One for emergencies, one for testing."

She filled two bags with the powder, then headed back to Verity to check out. Tony got distracted once again by something on the shelves, and she continued to the front alone.

"Come off it, Granger, you know there's no charge for you," Verity said as she bagged the items and Hermione pulled out her purse.

"I want to pay," she said.

"Fred said you were never to have to pay in this store. Ever. His words."

Hermione looked down at the counter. "That was a long time ago," she said softly.

"Still holds," Verity said, her voice suddenly much more sympathetic. She paused for a moment, then said cautiously, "It's been eight years, Hermione. He'd want you happy. You've got an interesting bloke there, and don't think I don't know who that is."

"He's just my boss. We're working on some things together, that's why I wanted..."

"Boss? Sod off, Hermione, I can tell you have eyes for him," she interrupted. "From what I've heard 'boss' isn't going to stop him if he wants you."

"Do I look like the type of woman to have a romantic relationship with her boss?"

"You look like the type of woman who should _be_ the bloody boss, to tell the truth. But I'm not going to tell you how to live your life. If you want to pant after him and never touch, good on you, but could you put in a word for me?"

"Oh, shut it," she rolled her eyes, but she put her purse away and took the bag Verity was holding.

"If you're living around here, stop by anytime. Maybe we could meet for lunch? It's nice to see a face from back home."

"Absolutely," she nodded.

"Brilliant! I'll let George know, so next time he's over checking up he'll know to track you down and say hullo."

"Good luck finding me in this city," she smiled. "Are you ready to go, Tony?"

"Who missed the opportunity to call it 'Love Potion Number 9'?" he asked loudly.

"Tony..."

"Coming, dear," he strode to her.

"What do you feel like tonight?" she asked as they started back toward the bookshop.

"You expect me to form a coherent thought about food while I'm still surrounded by all this magic?"

"Pub it is, then?"

"Sounds good," he muttered absentmindedly as he stopped in front of a window that said 'Enchantress Lingere, for the bewitching witch'.

"Maybe next time," she said, grabbing his hand and pulling him along. To her surprise his fingers tightened around hers, making it impossible for her to drop his hand. They walked through the darkening street until they made it back to the bookshop, and waited for the shopkeeper to give them the all clear. When they exited the shop they turned left without consulting each other, starting to walk along the sidewalk in silence, their hands still linked. As night was falling those who passed them looked too preoccupied to notice who she was with, and she noticed that Tony was walking a quarter step behind her, letting her lead, as his eyes looked at something far away that was unseen by anyone else on the street. She spotted a rock n roll style bar with a sign that advertised their burgers, so she steered him inside and found a seat in a semi-secluded booth on the opposite side of the bar from a stage where a band was setting up. She had to kick him under the table to get him to pay enough attention to place his order, and waited until they had drinks in front of them to question him.

"Everything alright, Tony?" she asked.

"Yes," he nodded, though his face betrayed the lie. "It's just... you made it real today."

"Real?"

"Yeah. I mean, I know you are... the way you are," he said softly, glancing around to make sure no one was listening in. "I've seen it, you've performed spells in front of me, I get all that. But there was this separation. When it's just you it's like you're... enhanced, like Banner or Rogers. There's just something you do that no one else does. In the back of my mind I know what Fury told me, that you're just one of many, but I didn't see that. It was easy to pretend it wasn't there. Going with you today... it made it _real_. There's a whole community, a huge one, of people like you."

"It is a lot to take in," she agreed.

"I don't think you understand, exactly," he shot back. "Can I tell you something? Not too long ago I was riding high. I had the world figured out. I _knew_ that what I had was in demand. I _knew_ the geopolitical climate would keep my business more than busy and profitable for a long time to come, longer than I ever planned to survive. I knew there were people out there who didn't like me, but I knew that I was fucking untouchable. More recently I knew that there was a woman I adored, who would stay with me despite my character flaws. And through it all I knew that the government had ponies in many races, though I thought mine most important and that they couldn't pull one over on me, and I knew that man was the penultimate being that could be designed.

"Over the past couple years, I have been shown just how little I know," he muttered. "My cocky attitude nearly got me killed on several occasions. My flaws finally drove that woman away. The government, with the help of my father, could build a perfect man, freeze him for seventy years, and then convince him to keep fucking fighting. And I learned that there is so much more out there that is so much greater than a man. Thor, and his brother, and those things his brother brought down... we're not alone in the universe, and, to be honest, it's mostly because of luck that we're all alive today. I can't imagine it being easy to get over, but what I saw... I'm not sure those nightmares will ever go away. But I was starting to deal with the idea. And then you come along, and suddenly there's another world I knew nothing about. But this one is hiding under my own nose, and has been my whole life. I have never felt so... so _small_ , you know?"

"I do," she replied quietly, nodding and reaching across the table to place a supportive hand on his. "I know it's a huge transition, to know about this secret world you've been living near your whole life, I entered it at eleven and it was nearly overwhelming. But I promise I'll be honest with you, Tony. If you want to know more, just ask, I don't want to hide any of it from you."

"Stuff you're not supposed to be telling me about," he pointed out.

"Stuff you _need_ to know if I'm going to be an effective part of everything you have going on," she said firmly. "If this Avengers thing is going to work, we have to be a _team_ and not just a group of people who get together when shit is going down, and to be a proper team we have to be open and honest with each other about our strengths and weaknesses."

"So you'll be telling Rogers all this, are you?"

"Steve is only interested in what I can do with magic," she shook her head. "You want to know more. You don't accept that it stops at me, but he does, because I'm all he has to work with. To him I am a soldier, and as a soldier under his command he needs to know what he can ask of me and what I cannot do, but the fact that I am a part of a larger group is inconsequential unless I can get him access to that group. But you don't just like following orders. You like to know how things work and how they can be better. You want to _understand._ That part is huge to me, and I will do my best to help you discover what you want."

He stared for her at a long moment, not even moving when the lights went down and the band started playing. "Thank you, Granger," he muttered, just loud enough for her to hear, and his fingers moved so they were holding hands again. They listened to the band and chatted until after midnight, when Tony called for a car and took her back to her hotel. All that Sunday he pondered Granger, going so far as to enter her lab to have a look around. She had personalized the place, he noticed, and he spent a long time studying the pictures she had hanging in one corner. The only still photos were of her and two older people who bore some resemblance to her, so he was sure those were her parents. It took a moment for him to get over the fact that the other pictures moved, but after the surprise wore off he could tell that most of the photos were of her and the same two boys, though there were others with her and others. The only that said something more than 'friendship' was a picture of her and a tall, beaming redheaded boy, who held her tenderly around the middle and kissed her cheek before tickling her or picking her up and spinning her. They looked so happy, and based on the picture's prominent placement it meant a lot to Hermione. But she had said she was single, and the picture was of a much younger Hermione, leaving him to ponder who the boy might be and what he meant to Hermione.

Just before noon Hermione found him in his lab. She was carrying two bags of food and was smiling widely.

"I got the condo," she announced. "And lunch, but the condo is more important."

"Congratulations," he smiled, clearing a spot for her to put the bags.

"Now I get to go through all the inspections and all the formalities, but I really do need to thank you, Tony. This would have taken so much longer without you," she said, sitting and conjuring plates and silverware.

"Any time, Hermione," he nodded, sitting next to her.

"I got you something," she said, reaching into her pocket, and handing him an envelope. "Box tickets to a Quidditch match in a few weeks. My friend's team is coming to play, and I thought you might like to go."

"Of course," he nodded enthusiastically.

She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Thank you again," she muttered, and started serving lunch, oblivious to the turmoil in him that one small gesture had caused.


	4. Chapter 4

Over the next two weeks Hermione found herself spending much of her free time with Tony, who would often explain things to her as she sat in his lab, and twice more they went out for dinner and drinks because they had found themselves working late together and agreed that they needed a break from the tower. She found him thoughtful, witty, and, at times, flirty, and nearly forgot why she had been sent to Stark in the first place as he seemed so normal. But there were times, often after he had been forced to do work pertaining to the company as a whole, that he became sullen and short-tempered, and because their friendship (if that's what it was) was still young she usually cleared out. One morning he glumly left her lab so he could attend to a video conference he had set up with Pepper and a couple board members, and Hermione didn't see him the rest of the day. She wasn't surprised when she found no one on the party deck when the elevator doors slid open at nine that night. It wasn't as though she had an appointment, she just wanted to drop off her latest budget figures before leaving for the weekend.

"Tony?" she called out, walking toward the desk with the intention of just leaving the papers there if she got no reply.

"Granger!" a slurred reply came from a couch, and Tony's head popped up, but quickly sank back out of view.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, walking toward him, but it was reply enough when she nearly tripped on an empty scotch bottle.

"Want a drink?" he asked, offering her another partially-empty bottle without a glass. He was sprawled on the couch, one leg hanging off, looking worse for wear.

"No, thank you, I'm fine," she replied. "And by the looks of it you are just about finished yourself," she added, prying the bottle from his hand.

"Don't be like that, Granger," he murmured, taking a swipe at the bottle but missing by several inches.

"Don't be like what? Concerned about you living through the night? Sorry, that's not in my nature. Let's get you upstairs."

"I'm good here," he motioned vaguely to himself. "Care to join me? I have room on my staff, so to speak."

"In your state your staff probably isn't ready to rise to the occasion," she shot back. "And that was a bloody pathetic attempt."

"You're right," he muttered. "But it was worth a shot. A man has a pretty, intelligent witch tending to him. How often does that happen?"

"Did you just refer to yourself in the third person?" she asked, wrapping one of his arms around her shoulders and lifting him into a sitting position.

"Maybe."

"You're going to need to do some of the work here or I'm going to have to levitate you, and I know you'd probably vomit from the experience."

"From levitation?"

"Well, I could Apparate us to your room, but then you would certainly vomit, and it doesn't matter how quickly you clean it, that smell lingers."

Shakily he managed to get to his feet and, leaning on Hermione, they slowly made their way to the elevator. Once inside she rested him against a wall as she took a few deep breaths to ready herself for the next time she'd have to move him.

"One thing I can't figure out, Granger: Why did a witch like you go to work for Nick Fucking Fury? There had to be others willing to give you a job and get you out of that place."

"Because I stayed in my world long enough to realize we fought a war for very few, if any, things to change," she replied softly. "The pureblood supremacists might be forced to treat me like an equal, but no one just drops a prejudice that quickly. So many people are dead, and I was smiling in photo ops with people who pretended they weren't dying. I couldn't stay, and then Fury came into the picture. It was time for me to move on, and with him I got a fresh start."

The doors slid open to his penthouse suite, and she put his arm around her shoulders, but noticed he drew her in a little closer than before. She maneuvered him down a hallway and into his bedroom, where she carefully lowered him onto the bed. She helped him remove his shoes, and he laid back as far as he could against the pillows.

"I've got something you'll probably want," she said, pulling her wand to summon a phial of purple liquid from her bag and placing it on the table next to him.

"What is it?" he asked, taking the phial and studying it cautiously.

"I'm poisoning you, Stark. I'm only here in an attempt to make a hostile takeover of Stark Industries," she smirked.

"You'd make a horrible villain. You're not supposed to tell me your plan until after I take the mysterious substance," he pointed out.

"It's a hangover solution," she sighed. "It won't stop you from being drunk tonight, but you should wake up feeling well enough tomorrow."

"I don't get hangovers."

"If those bottles are any indication you just drank enough to give a bull elephant a hangover. Take the bloody potion, Stark."

"The amount in the bottles is a bit misleading. They were already open when I started with them. You are remarkably bossy, aren't you?" he asked before uncorking the phial and throwing back the liquid inside.

"A trait I've been informed of several times, often delivered with much more venom than you can muster at the moment," she smiled sweetly, then pointed her wand at a pillow on the other side of the bed, summoning it to her.

"What's that for?" he asked.

"I'm kipping on the couch. That hangover potion has a sleepwalking side effect, and while I normally don't think it's an issue, most people who take it don't have access to a flying robot suit. The last thing I need to do is to try to catch you in that bloody thing. I'm going to go tell Jarvis to lock the suits down for the night, then I'll be just out the door if you need me," she stood to leave the room.

"I don't need a babysitter, Granger," he said firmly behind her.

"Good, because if I wanted to be a caretaker for someone older than me I have a few casualties of war back home who are more deserving," she shot back. "But if you go flying around the city in your suit while sleepwalking on that potion it's going to be my wand. I'm not willing to risk it."

"I don't mean tonight," he said seriously. "I know why you're here. Fury didn't give up someone like you because he wanted you to focus on stuff for the team. He sent you here to babysit me. Banner isn't doing it, he knows I don't listen to Rogers, and Romanoff and Barton won't even try. But you, you're caring and kind. You see a sick puppy on the street and fuck anything else you have to do that day, you're going to save the goddamn dog. Fury told you some bullshit about me being some pathetic shell of my former self and you came running, determined to help me."

"Are you done?" she asked calmly, hands on her hips.

"I'll yield the floor for now."

She took a deep breath. "Yes, Nick asked me to come here because he was concerned about you. But I came because I _wanted_ to come and work here, not because Fury sent me on some mission to pull you out of whatever hole you're in. Do you really think he was going to let me walk away if I insisted on not coming? He made a point about my talent being put to better use, and after thinking it over I realized he was right. I got the real reason out of him, but that doesn't mean I came here to babysit you. I'm working ten hour days, I don't have the time, Stark."

"What did he say?" he asked. "About me, I mean. Why did he think you were the one to come work on me?"

"Because he thought we had been through similar situations. We were both in horrible situations we only got through on luck, intelligence, and a lot of making things up as we went along. We both have dealt with fighting a war we had no intention to fight, and we both lost people we loved because of that war. And we have both been through shit that no person has no need to experience."

"And what was your experience, Granger? Fighting a war as a teenager? Do you think you were effected that much differently than anyone else who has fought a war at a young age?"

Her brown eyes studied him wearily for a moment. "What I went through was far beyond war," she replied evenly.

"Really?" he asked, sounding skeptical.

In reply she walked back to the bed, rolling up her left sleeve as she went. As she reached the side of his bed she touched her wand to her forearm, removing the glamour over her 'mudblood' scars, which were still an angry pink as though they were only a week old, not several years. "This is my reminder of who I am, of _what_ I am to some very important people in my world. The woman who gave it to me made sure I would never forget my place. And that's not the worst of what she did to me."

He stared at her arm for a long moment, eyes sliding in and out of focus. Then his gaze shifted upward, and his eyes met hers, and even in his drunken haze he was surprised at how hardened she looked at that moment. Without a word she turned and strode from the room.

XXXXXXXXX

He found her the next morning, on the couch as promised, though she had made some changes to make it more like a bed and she had either changed into a pair of pajamas or used magic to transform her outfit. Her left wrist was tucked under her head, so 'mudblood' was displayed next to her face. It was that image that he stared at for a long time, and he realized that Hermione looked much closer to her mid-twenties when she was sleeping, as though the years of stress dissolved in her sleep, only to return when she woke once more. Feeling a pang of guilt for the night before he went further to study her body, a habit he had gotten himself out of for Pepper's sake. She really was quite beautiful, more in a timeless sense than a modern one. An oval face with soft angles and just a hit of color to her cheekbones, thin lips, but not so thin as to not be noticeable, eyes that never failed to betray her emotions. She was thin, but not disturbingly so as her curves were subtle. He noticed for the first time a scar that extended across the top of her right breast and disappeared under the t-shirt she was wearing. Her hands, too, bore signs of being used, with some visible scars. All in all Hermione was a mysterious and alluring woman, made even more desirable because of her intelligence and kind nature, traits that were even more enhanced by the air of intrigue surrounding her. Younger Tony would have chased the woman all over the globe, begging for time to spend with her, though he knew she would never have given that Tony the time of day. That Tony was too arrogant, too reckless, too untrustworthy as to be invited into the confidences of a famous young witch. He had matured since then, but the previous night showed he still had some growing up to do. He shouldn't have questioned her motives, Hermione was not the type to go squealing to someone like Fury for behavior like his the night before. She worked hard, and to that point she hadn't pushed him for personal information, nor did she seem to be trying to push friendship on him. Some people were caring by nature, and Granger happened to be one of those, and for that he should be grateful and not suspicious, but that was one trait that hadn't fully matured quite yet.

He went to make some coffee and, when he heard her starting to stir, poured her a cup, adding just a touch of cream and sugar, knowing Jarvis once mentioned that's how she took it in her lab.

"Morning," he said softly, placing the cup on the table in front of her as she sat up and stretched.

"Good morning," she replied with a stifled yawn. "How are you feeling this morning?"

"Perfectly fine, actually," he replied, without acknowledging that the only reason he was feeling okay was her potion.

"Good," she said, picking up the cup and taking a cautious sip. He watched in amusement as her eyes closed, her other hand wrapped around the mug with the first, and she let a smile play across her face. "This is bloody fantastic coffee," she said before taking another sip.

"It should be for what it costs," he said, sitting in a chair across from her. "So... Can I hear the story behind the scars?"

She frowned for a moment, her right hand moving to rub her left forearm as she considered the request. "During the war my friends and I were captured. Once the men who captured us were sure they had Harry they took us to the mansion the Death Eaters were using as a base. They weren't going to kill Harry, that was for Voldemort to do, but they were going to kill Ron and I until they saw we had a sword with us, a sword one of them, Bellatrix, was sure was in her bank vault. She wanted information, and decided that, because I have no magical lineage, I was the more expendable of the two of us, so she would still have Ron to try to get information from if, well, more like when I died in her attempt. They locked Harry and Ron away, and she... she tortured me. First she used a spell, the torture curse, which, from what I've heard, she was particularly strong at casting because she _enjoyed_ using it so much. Then, when I was too weak to put up too much of a fight, she carved this into my arm. She said I should be labeled, so when they showed our bodies to the public they would know it was me, because she was going to give me to this werewolf named Greyback and my face probably wouldn't be recognizable after that."

"Shit," he breathed.

"We got out before that happened. I've tried everything to make it go away, but I think she cursed the blade. As it was it took us nearly three hours just to get it to stop bleeding," she murmured, looking down at the scars. "I usually cover it with a glamour charm, because I don't want people to see it and ask questions. It still looks fresh, doesn't it?"

"It does," he admitted. "I wouldn't say more than a month or so."

"I've learned to live with it," she shrugged. "It's certainly much better than living with..." she nodded towards the arc reactor.

He watched as she took another sip of coffee. "You know I meant it last night. When I said I don't need a mother, I mean."

"Bloody hell, Tony, if I said I wasn't interested in being your babysitter what in the hell makes you think I'd want to be your mum?" she sighed.

"You could just tell Fury that anytime now."

"I'm not telling Fury anything," she said, finishing the cup and standing to put it in the sink. "I know what Fury wanted when I came here, but I'm not interested in any of that. I stayed here last night not because I was overly concerned about you being pissed, you're a grown man and you can handle your liquor however you want, but I was concerned about a friend getting hurt. And breaking the International Statute of Secrecy, but that was secondary, and using it as the reason shut you up. I'm not here to be your mum, Tony. Friends, if we'd both like, but I'm not going to force anything, and I'm not going to tell you what to do or how to cope. And as a friend I will say this now and shut up about it: I know what it's like to hold onto something too long, and I know how it can completely wreck a person, because I've been there. And, again, speaking as a friend, I would hate to see you continue down that path, though if you want to walk that road I'm not going to stop you. I'm not going to tell you to get over it, I'm not going to tell you how to deal with whatever feelings you're having about everything that's happened to you, that's up for you to decide. I'm here if you want to talk, and I'll stay away if that's what you want. But, take it from me, this is a barrel of which you don't want to see the bottom. The further down you go, the harder it's going to be to get back out."

He replied with a noncommittal grunt.

"I'm going to get a couple things done in the lab before I leave," she announced, turning her pajamas back into street clothes with her wand. "I'm taking tomorrow off. I've spent far too much time in this tower. Need anything before I go?"

"No," he replied with a shake of his head.

"Have a good day, then, Tony," she flashed him a forced smile before starting toward the elevator.

"What was his name?" he called after her.

Her step faltered, and she hesitated with her finger extended toward the button. After a second she turned slowly back to face him. "What do you mean?" she asked, trying to sound casual, but there was a strain in her voice.

"You're showing all the signs of having lost someone you loved very much. You throw yourself into your work, at the expense of any relationship you may have been able to start. You told me there have been a number of dates, but none of them were what you were looking for, which is somewhat surprising considering you don't seem the type to waste your time going out with someone you didn't feel any potential with, and you admitted that it ended in the bedroom so they were at least good enough for that. So, either you have a line of horrible lovers, or there's something blocking you from letting it get any further for some reason, and I'm pretty sure it has something to do with the picture of that redhead you have by your desk."

She bit her lip and looked out the window for a moment, and he could see her putting up walls to prevent herself from looking too emotional.

"His name was Fred," she said, so softly he almost didn't hear her. "And he was my fiance."

"Fiance?" he repeated in surprise.

"Yes. We had been seeing each other for two years, and got engaged three days before I had to go on the run with Harry. I had known him since I was eleven. He was funny, kind, generous, brilliant.. truth be told he was a lot like you. And I loved him, more than I thought I could love a person."

"What happened?" he asked softly, almost afraid of the answer.

"He was killed in the final battle. We were battling some Death Eaters in a hallway. He was in the middle of cracking a joke," she said with a half-smile before she bit her lip and her face darkened. "The wall just sort of blew up. It was that quick, just hearing his voice and then... nothing." Her eyes were out of focus and cloudy with tears, and he instinctively knew she hadn't talked to anyone about Fred's death in a long time, and he knew to keep quiet. She took a deep breath and then finished, "He was still smiling. He died as happy as someone could be in that situation. I didn't get to say goodbye, but I guess that's okay because it means he didn't suffer.

"I know it's not the same as things between you and Pepper, because there is that element of choice," she added, her voice a little stronger. "Death is final, at least, you know you're not going to run into each other at a function, or you don't have to deal with them running your company and still needing to talk to you because of that. I don't understand your situation because of that, Tony. But I understand how much it hurts to lose someone you love so deeply, and I also know that it will consume you if you let it. And if you weren't so bloody stubborn about accepting help maybe you can prevent that. I get nightmares, too, of the war, and the torture... and of Fred. The ones with the battle and the torture, those aren't the worst. Because at least when I have those dreams, the pain ends when I wake up. The ones with Fred..." she trailed off. "I'd hate for that to be you, Tony."

She didn't say good-bye, just turned and jabbed the button to the elevator. The doors slid open immediately, and she didn't turn around as she entered and they snapped shut behind her. He watched the number indicating where the elevator was drop, past the level her lab was on, speeding toward the ground level.

"Jarvis?" he asked.

"Yes, sir?" the computerized voice responded.

"Pull up the security footage from outside the elevators on the ground floor."

In front of him a hologram flickered to life, just in time for him to watch the doors to Hermione's elevator open to reveal an empty interior.

XXXXXXXXXX

For the next two weeks Hermione and Tony only talked when it pertained to work, and even then they waited until they couldn't communicate by terse e-mail. After a week Hermione decided it was for the best, she was Tony's employee after all, even if that title was pretty much ceremonial and only entitled her to a paycheck. She started keeping regular hours at the office rather than spending most of her time in the tower, and she took one Friday off to close on her condo and move her things from the hotel and a storage unit she had rented for appearance purposes into her new place. As she was living in a Muggle building she hired some movers to be the ones to do most of the work and busied herself putting things away.

"Knock, knock," she heard a hesitant voice call from her doorway, and she turned to see Tony standing just inside the door holding a bottle of wine and wearing a sheepish smile.

"Hullo," she replied, keeping her face emotionless.

"Listen, Granger, I'd like to talk, and I'm offering to do so while doing manual labor of your choice."

"Okay," she nodded. "Help me arrange the bedroom?"

"Oh, we're going straight there, are we?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

She rolled her eyes and tried to look stern, but chuckled. "I asked for that one," she sighed. "Come on."

They went to the bedroom and she started surveying the room. "Bed against that wall?" she asked, pointing to the side opposite the door.

"Honest opinion? I'd put it between the bathroom and closet door. You have beautiful french doors overlooking your patio, might as well enjoy the view."

She considered it for a moment. "I think you're right. Help me move it?"

"Okay," he nodded, putting the wine on top of a box and taking off his jacket.

"What did you want to talk about?" she asked, picking up one side of her headboard.

"Us," he replied.

She stopped where she was, shooting a quizzical look at him.

"I don't like this new business relationship we have going on," he quickly added. "I liked spending time with you. I liked the talks we used to have. I'm suffering from a severe deficit of British accent in my life right now, all I have is Jarvis and he's gotten short with his answers for some reason. What do I need to do to get us back to where we were before?"

"Ask," she replied as they placed the headboard, and, after checking to make sure the movers weren't watching, tapped it with her wand to keep it in place. "I thought I had gone too far with what I had said, and that's why you weren't speaking to me."

"What you said... needed to be said," he assured her. "I didn't like hearing it, but that doesn't mean you should feel like you shouldn't have said it."

"I'm usually much better at delivering advice," she replied with a weak smile.

"In the past, then?"

"Agreed," she nodded.

"Good. Now, what do you want to do with that monster of a dresser?"

An hour later a worker came in to announce everything was off the truck, and had Hermione go through the condo to make sure everything was in the proper place. She thanked them, and paid them, then went onto the terrace, hoisted herself onto the brick wall, balancing precociously on a small ledge.

"Do I want to know what you're doing?" Tony asked as he stood behind her.

"I want to watch to make sure none of them are going to come back up for something," she replied.

He didn't hide the fact that he was looking at her rear as he said, "Not that I'm complaining about the view, because it certainly is a good one, but why are you so concerned about making sure they're gone?"

"Because I need to make sure they're gone before I do this," she said, turning around and holding out a hand for him to help her down. As soon as she was on level ground she pulled out her wand and started waving it as she walked through the condo. He watched, wide-eyed, as furniture sprung into place, plates and silverware went flying into cabinets and drawers, and pictures hung themselves. It took her less than fifteen minutes for everything to put itself away, and the boxes to fold themselves until they disappeared once empty. By the time she was done it looked as though she had been living there for years, not minutes.

"Why did we do all that work?" he asked as she finished in the bedroom.

"To keep up Muggle appearances," she replied falling onto the bed. "I have to be very careful about how much magic I use while living in a Muggle building."

"Why not live in the magical community, then?" he asked, lying next to her.

"My employer is a Muggle, and that is a problem for many in the Magical community," she said, and he remembered the looks they got while walking through the Magical street. "I'm toeing the line by working as a witch for a Muggle organization. It's only because of the nature of the work that I haven't been arrested for breaking the Statute of Secrecy, and even then I think the pull of my name has been the deciding factor. It doesn't sit well with some people, so I'm persona non grata to some and I've had Kingsley, the Minister of Magic in the UK, insinuate it would be best to distance myself from the magical community as much as possible."

"Wait, so you saved them, and they thank you by telling you to get lost when you want to continue doing that?" he asked incredulously.

"You're looking at it as a Muggle," she turned so she was facing him. "Magical people have been in hiding for centuries, and for good reason. My work threatens to expose us. That's made plenty of people upset. I've voluntarily withdrawn from the Magical world, though I haven't given up my friends, and I haven't stopped myself from going shopping at Magical shops. It's worked for me. I feel like I've finally found my balance between the Magical and Muggle worlds."

"Their loss, our gain," he smiled. "They have given us one fantastic woman."

She smiled, a blush crossing her face for a second. "I'm knackered," she announced. "I'll treat you to pizza and firewhiskey in thanks for your help."

"That I think we can do," he nodded.

Their pizza arrived a half hour later, after they had each gone through a bottle of butterbeer and a drink of firewhiskey. They ate, drank, laughed, and flirted on her terrace for most of the night, until Hermione started nodding off. Tony helped her to bed, and sat on the edge next to her for several minutes after she fell asleep, wondering if he should leave, and realizing how much he didn't want to go. In the end he called for a car, and brushed a lock of hair away from Hermione's face before heading down to the street.


	5. Chapter 5

"Are you sure this is going to work?" he asked, running a finger over the brand-new spade tattoo on his right forearm. It had been three weeks since Tony had gone to Hermione's condo holding the proverbial olive branch, and since then he had thrown himself into working with her, spending most of the day in her lab with her despite that meaning he put some of his other projects on hold. They were focusing on her idea of a communication method that couldn't be dropped or hacked, and that eventually found him with his new body adornment.

"No. That's why I wanted to try it on you first, Tony. A good scientist always uses a guinea pig before a human trial," she replied cheekily, touching her own wand the same spot on her forearm. As he watched a black spot appeared on her arm, and as she murmured softly it morphed into a small lion. A smile crossed her face as it flashed golden once, then faded back to black, looking like a tattoo she had worn for years.

"Just remember that this guinea pig happens to sign your paychecks," he replied, leaning back against her workbench.

"You haven't signed a paycheck in years," she laughed. "You pay people to do that for you."

"Watch that tongue, Granger. Are we going to try this or not?"

"I've never seen you so dedicated to my work, Mr. Stark," she said, running her finger over the lion.

"Well, if you're going to mark me as yours, Granger, I might as well get something out of it, even if what really is about to happen isn't as much fun as that sounds."

"Marked you as mine? Tony, if I were going to mark you as mine I sure as hell wouldn't make it some tiny little spade that could mean a thousand different things and then put it in such a conspicuous place. Something to mark ownership must be placed in a strategic place as to force you to explain to anyone else in that vicinity exactly why you have 'Property of Hermione Granger' written in your most intimate area," she smirked, and before he could respond she pressed her finger to the lion and murmured something into it.

He inhaled sharply as the spade burned, and looked down to see writing appear on his skin.

 _By the way, if you'd like that tattoo you're going to have to at least buy me a drink first._

"Technically, as it is my money I pay you with, I buy pretty much every drink you have," he said, looking at her, then back at his now clear skin, unable to contain his impressed look.

"Hardly," she countered. "Once you pay me, it's my money. And if that _were_ true you have a tendency to buy me the cheap drinks. Prat."

He lifted the spade to his lips. A second later she looked down at her arm.

 _You have a standing invitation to drinks anytime you want. Top shelf._

"I may take you up on that sometime," she said, pulling off her lab coat. "Did you do what I asked?"

"More or less," he replied.

"Tony..."

"I did!" he said defensively, putting his hands up. "Or, at least, I did enough I should be able to finish it up before you get there."

"I move faster than you," she pointed out.

"Walk. I heard it's good for you. Now, I've got something to do this evening, so you may want to get moving."

"Okay. Give me fifteen minutes to get a little lost and send me the first message."

"Fifteen minutes," he said, holding an envelope out to her. As she took it she realized he was looking her over, and she felt conflicted. Their relationship had gotten playful, flirty even, and she desired him on some level, though she wasn't sure exactly what that meant or how she should proceed or not. Still, she felt her back straighten, pushing her breasts slightly out, as she subconsciously turned slightly like some model on display, though she felt absurd once she realized she was doing so.

"Clock's ticking," he said softly, studying her face, eyes lingering just a moment on her lips.

"Watch me do this in record time, Stark," she smile playfully.

She took the elevator down, walked out of the building, and picked a direction to start walking. After exactly fifteen minutes she felt her tattoo burn and, after making sure no one could oversee, glanced at the message.

 _PO Box 512, 1299 W Main St, Calverton, NY. Key in envelope._

"That is a little farther than I planned to travel," she murmured with a frown. Ducking into a coffee shop she made a beeline for the restroom and, once locked inside, she dug into her bag and found the book listing safe apparation points around New York. The closest one to her destination was a memorial park about half a mile away, and she cast a silencing charm on the room, unlocked the door, and apparated away. Though the day was unseasonably warm and sunny, with a few colorful leaves still stubbornly clinging to their branches, there was no one in the park when she landed behind a large mausoleum that housed an old American wizarding family. Still, she took care not to be seen as she ducked out of the park through a hole in the fence and started walking down the street as though she had been there for some time. The post office was not busy when she entered, but she still scrutinized each of the customers and the employees before opening the envelope, picking out a key, and sliding it into a the correct lock. A small package waited for her, which she pulled out and studied curiously, but as it was addressed to Tony she didn't open the wrapping. Instead she tucked it into her bag and walked back out, waiting until she was walking through a neighborhood on her way back to the mausoleum to touch the lion.

 _Got it. You're going to have to try harder, Stark, if you want this to take longer than fifteen minutes._

She expected some sort of quip in return, but a minute later she got a rather simple message, directing her to a UPS store on Long Island, where a larger box was waiting for her. Next was another box left in the mailbox of an abandoned home in New Jersey. Each time the message came through clear, no matter how far she was away from Stark Tower, and as her frustration at what was looking less like a fun scavenger hunt and more a list of errands was lessened knowing that, at the very least, it looked like her idea for a covert way for the team to communicate was working perfectly. They'd have to make longer trials later, but she felt optimistic it would be a success.

 _You know, I'm not your bloody assistant. I shouldn't be picking up your laundry._

Her angry message came after she picked up a garment bag from Saks Fifth Avenue. She stewed as she made the short walk back to Stark Tower, and rode up to the party deck, thinking Tony would surely be there. Instead she found the place deserted, though a bright red envelope sitting on his desk caught her eye. As she went to put the boxes down, and saw the envelope was addressed to her. Confused, she opened it and pulled out a simple piece of paper, with a ticket wrapped inside. Without looking at the ticket she read:

 _Granger,_

 _Sorry I'm not around to ask you in person... actually, scratch that. I kind of planned it this way, didn't I? I have these two tickets to a gala to benefit the Children's Hospital tonight and I seem to be lacking a date. So I used your little scavenger hunt as a way for you to pick up anything you need for the night, and if you want you can go to the salon around the corner and get your hair done on my dime, I booked you at 4, which should be just about the time you are reading this if I'm not a total failure. It starts at 8, I'll be waiting for you out front._

 _-Tony_

"That daft man," she muttered to herself, and checked her watch. There was just enough time for her to run to the salon to make her appointment.

"Miss Granger?" the receptionist smiled warmly as she walked in.

"Yes," she said, trying not to betray the fact that she was panting.

"Mr. Stark told us to be expecting you. Come on back, they're waiting for you," she motioned, leading Hermione toward the back.

"They?" she asked.

"Mr. Stark was quite clear you were to get our 'paparazzi' package. Hair, makeup, nails. He also insisted we work quickly, as you wouldn't want to be here all day."

"But..." she started as she was lead to a station where a young woman with green hair waited to wash her hair.

"He also said you would object, and to tell you that it's for charity, which is, if I could use his words, 'clearly her weak spot'."

She felt her jaw set, but dutifully sat. The next three hours were a blur of people working on her hair, skin, hands, and feet. She tried to keep up with the general chatter, and she was surprised it took two hours before someone broached the subject.

"So..." smiled the woman painting her toenails. "Would Mr. Stark happen to be Tony Stark?"

"Do you know many Starks daft enough to pull this stunt?" Hermione sighed.

"How do you know him?"

"I work for him," she replied.

"Does this for all his employees, does he?"

"I'm guessing only those he's taking to galas," she shot back.

The woman gave her a skeptical smile and went back to work. Hermione felt defensive, and almost let the woman have it, but instead she thought about her complicated relationship with her boss, who also happened to be her mission. What Tony did really was a step above what a boss would do for his employee. Was there something more between her and Tony? Sure, they flirted all the time, but flirting seemed like second nature to Tony, and she wasn't sure she should read too much into it. They were friends, he was her closest friend this side of the pond, but that didn't mean there was anything romantic or that there ever would be. If anything it was actually a reason for her NOT to even consider harboring any type of romantic feelings toward him, they were already too tangled and if things went south it would be so much more than a breakup. Still, part of her desired him, and she knew that there was no way she'd be able to convince herself not to have that dirty little fantasy on occasion.

Returning to the tower she opened the packages. Either Tony had impeccable taste, or he had gotten someone to shop for him, because the outfit was gorgeous. A deep red evening gown, dangling diamond earrings, silver shoes with a clutch purse to match. The outfit probably cost more than her entire wardrobe, and she knew that's why Tony wasn't around, because he knew she'd strongly object to the gifts. She got ready quickly, and studied herself in the mirror. If Tony had done all this it was for a reason, he wanted someone who looked immaculate on his arm. But that didn't mean she couldn't get a little playful with it. She tapped her wand to the dress, lowering the V neck until she was showing a good hint of cleavage. She put her ID, some money, and her ticket into the clutch, added a pocket to the inside of the dress and slipped her wand inside, then Apparated to an alley a block away from the gala. As she rounded the corner she saw Tony on the steps to the venue, chatting with some reporters.

"It has come to my recent attention that there are some places that suffered damage during the attack on New York are still living with that damage. Stark Industries finds this unacceptable, and we will be contracting those who did the work fixing my tower, as well as a few other companies, to go in to assist those places, as well as working with other prominent businesses to make sure everyone whose life was affected can get back to normal," she heard him saying. "To date we have a billion in corporate pledges to assist, and while that is a phenomenal start, we still have another half billion to make up, and I hope to get that done as quickly as possible. You know getting money from some businesses is blood from a stone, so maybe you can do your part and hound them."

Hermione joined in the polite smattering of chuckles.

"Do you have a timeline for the work?" a reporter asked.

"First crews are on scene Monday, but speaking of timelines I do have one set for tonight, and I see my stunning date has arrived," without warning he looked at her with a charming smile. The reporters turned to look at her, and flashes immediately started going off as Tony approached her, took her hand, and kissed her fingers.

"Miss Granger," he smiled. "That dress is absolutely breathtaking on you."

"Thank you, Tony, for everything," she replied softly.

"Shall we?" he asked, offering her his arm.

"I'm yours," she smiled, letting him lead her up the steps.

"Who is this, Mr. Stark?" several reporters asked at once.

"This captivating woman is Miss Hermione Granger, one of the greatest minds I have ever met, and she has somewhat of a Pavlovian response to the word 'charity'," he replied.

"Tony," she said in a soft, warning tone.

"Don't be modest, Hermione," he replied, opening the door for her. They checked in with an overly enthusiastic event planner, who directed them down a hallway to a ballroom filled with round tables and bathed in a purple glow. They were directed to the table nearest the stage, where Tony introduced Hermione to a table full of business men and women whose names she didn't bother to remember, though she did notice several men giving her appreciative looks. She paid polite attention as a young woman came to give the opening speech and thank them all profusely for coming. She talked a little about the hospital and their needs, but kept her speech short. Finally she introduced the director of the hospital, and Tony nudged her shoulder.

"Good guy, but he gives the same speech every year," he murmured in her ear. "He's going to make a lame joke about honored guests and what the cat dragged in."

"Good evening," the director smiled into the microphone. "Welcome, honored guests, and whoever the cat managed to drag in..."

Hermione couldn't stop a smile across her face. She soon found Tony wasn't exaggerating, the man made Binn's class look exciting. For the next ten minutes the only reason she was able to hold her attention through the boring speech was Tony's playful mocking in her ear.

"Time to eat, and don't worry, it's better than the hospital cafeteria," Tony finished, his lips brushing her ear.

"I've kept you long enough," the director finished. "I won't delay dinner any longer, you must be hungry, and I promise the food here is better than what you'd expect if you were one of our special guests."

"Close, but not quite," she said softly as bowls of soup were put in front of them.

"He must have gotten a speechwriter this year," Tony replied. "A lazy one, but at least one line is better than nothing, and it was close enough."

"Mum always told me 'close' only counts with horseshoes and hand grenades."

"That's such a parent thing to say."

"And your father's bit about peace is having a bigger stick than the other guy isn't?" she raised an eyebrow.

"I'm presently in someone who is making me severely question the legitimacy of that statement."

"Why is that?"

"Let's face it, even with the suit you could kick my ass with that rather small stick you carry. It doesn't matter how big a stick I carry, and that goes against that philosophy."

"Anything to mention the size of your stick, Tony?" she replied just above her breath before turning to engage in conversation with the woman sitting next to her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Tony smirk before turning to talk to the man on his other side. At the same time she felt his leg come into contact with hers as he moved his chair closer, and his hand fell onto her leg, just above her knee. It took an effort for her to not acknowledge what was going on, or the thrill it was sending through her, as she discussed a news-making criminal case the woman was defending.

When dinner was over they dutifully got up so their table could be cleared for the dance floor. After getting a round of drinks they walked over to the silent auction table.

"Pick something, Granger," he said as they looked over the items.

"What?" she asked.

"Pick something, and I'll place a big enough bid that it'll be yours."

"Why?" she asked.

He looked at her for a moment, then pretended to study a baseball that had been signed by the Yankees. "Because you seem to have done what Fury asked you to do, even if you weren't trying."

She was taken aback for a moment, but nodded once. She saw an opening to talk to Tony about her feelings for him without being too direct, and took a moment before steeling her nerves and carefully saying, "You want me to pick out something I want? What if what I want is..." she paused as she took a deep breath, "...is to spend more time with you?"

He looked at her for a long moment. Twice he opened his mouth, but shut it before saying anything. Finally he took a deep breath and looked at the table again. "You like football, Hermione?" he asked. "Superbowl is coming up in a couple months. Have you ever been to New Orleans?"

"I haven't," she replied cautiously.

"Then this will be a treat for you," he said, picking up the pen and writing an absurdly large bid down.

"I'm sure it will be," she said, trying to hide her confusion. What had just happened? Obviously he expected them to be friends in a few months, but the hotel room that came with the ticket package was for a suite with a king-size bed. Was that his roundabout way of saying he was attracted to her, too? She knew she needed more, and looking down the table she got an idea. She'd ask him on a more direct, intimate date. "Do you ever go see shows on Broadway?" she asked.

"Not big on it, but I have in the past," he replied.

"I've heard this new one is one of the funniest things you'll ever watch," she said, taking his hand and walking to the other side of the table to another piece of paper. "That sounds like your type of performance. And it comes with dinner. From what I hear the restaurant is quite romantic."

He studied her, his expression unreadable, for a moment. "It sounds like a good night out," he nodded.

"Good," she smiled, picking up the pen.

"Let me, Hermione..."

"No," she said firmly. "I may not be able to match the grandiose number you put down, Tony, but I'm pretty sure I've still put down a winning bid, and now I've done something to satisfy my 'Pavlovian response to charity'. Couldn't have me drooling in this beautiful dress, could we?"

He chuckled as a band started playing. "Dance with me, Hermione?" he asked.

"I'd love to," she replied immediately. He led her onto the dance floor, taking her waist and starting to lead her.

"I've been thinking," he started, looking her over once more, "that I'm quite sure that dress looks somewhat different from when I bought it at the store."

"I may have made a slight alteration," she replied cheekily. "Is that a complaint?"

"Not at all. If anything they should call you in to consult on other alterations, because that dress is certainly an attention-catcher."

"You know, you could just say you like it."

"That would be an understatement. You look so good tonight that I'm afraid if I offer to get us drinks I'll just be leaving you to the poachers."

"Do you think they could hold a candle to you?" she raised an eyebrow. "How many billionaire, genius, playboy, philanthropists with flying metal suits do you think are here?"

"I think there are about as many of those as there are war heroine witches willing to risk prison to help a bunch of Muggles."

They danced together in silence for few minutes. She noticed Tony's fingers running lightly up and down her spine, occasionally drawing her closer before going slack and moving away again. He looked conflicted, and she knew it was because what she had said earlier. They may have skirted around the issue, but she hadn't asked directly and he hadn't given her a definitive answer, and it tied her stomach in knots. Unable to hold herself back any longer she looked up at him, swallowing hard as she mustered the words to her mouth. "Tony, do you think..."

"Mr. Stark! Mr. Stark!" several young voices called out, and they turned to see a group of four boys and three girls, running toward them. Each of them showed some sign of recent illness or injury.

"Mr. Stark, could we get a photo?" the closest boy asked.

He looked at Hermione.

"I'll protect myself from the poachers," she smiled, taking a couple steps back.

"Then you can have several pictures," he nodded. "Who has the camera?"

For the next several minutes Tony gamely posed for photos and signed anything the kids asked him to. Finally he turned to a little girl, who had been sitting just outside the ring of children, looking shy.

"Would you like a picture, too, sweetheart?" he asked.

"I actually would like a picture with Miss Granger," the girl said shyly.

Hermione looked surprised for a moment, then held her arms out. "Of course, love," she said as the girl cautiously approached her. "Muggle born?" she asked softly as she bent to give the girl a hug.

"Yes. I started school this year. My brother was in the hospital, so my parents wanted me to come here in support."

"I'm quite glad you did," she nodded.

"That's my mom," she said, motioning to a woman standing nearby with a camera. "She doesn't know why I'm getting a picture with you and I'm I don't want to explain where we might be overheard, but my friends at school will be so excited."

Hermione posed for the picture, then signed the program the girl was holding. She noticed Tony was carefully fielding questions from the group of kids, and he shot her a look that clearly conveyed he was in over his head.

"Would you kids like to see a magic trick?" she asked loudly. "I'll need a piece of paper."

The kids quickly shifted their attention to her, and one of them tore a sheet out of their program and handed it to her. "I learned about this trick from a boy at school," she said as she glanced at Tony, and shot a pointed look toward the door, and he immediately turned heel and started out. "He didn't mean to teach me it, but once I saw it I knew I had to learn it as well. He folded a bird, but I think and airplane will work nicely as well," she finished, holding her hands out to show them the paper airplane in her hands. "Now, in order to make the plane magic I need everyone to say the magic word..."

"Abracadabra!" one boy shouted.

"Hocus pocus!" a girl added.

"Please!" a boy and girl chorused.

"All very good magic words!" she chuckled. "Now that we've made it magic, I should be able to make it..." she stopped, holding her hands to her mouth and blowing on the plane, sending it soaring over their heads and looping off toward the other side of the room to excited squeals. "...fly," she finished to their retreating backs, watching them chase the plane for a moment before heading toward the exit herself, winking at the smiling young witch before she left.

When she got outside she saw Tony standing at the bottom of the steps, a mischievous smile on his face and a briefcase by his feet.

"I'm not sure if I should trust that look," she said stopping a few feet short of him.

"I just thought I'd offer you a lift home," he replied.

"I've heard stories of your driving," she shot back, sounding skeptical.

"I never said anything about a car," he smirked, kicking the briefcase. Suddenly his armor appeared, wrapping around him in seconds, and before she could react Iron Man was standing in front of her. She fought to control her amused reaction, rather she looked over him with an appraising eye and folded her arms.

"Is that supposed to be impressive?" she scoffed, fighting to keep her face neutral.

"No. This is," he shot back before scooping her up in his arms and taking off. She let off a startled yelp and threw her arms around his neck, holding on for dear life.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: You're getting this early because I was asked really nicely.**

 **To answer questions: yes, this is the final chapter, and, no, I don't plan on writing anything with this pairing in the future. But I really liked writing it, so never say never.**

 **Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed.**

He landed on her terrace and lowered her to the ground, and she slowly removed her arms from around his neck and took a couple wobbly steps away from him.

"Alright, Hermione?" he asked as the suit disassembled itself and folded into the suitcase.

"Not a fan of flying," she muttered, opening the door to her apartment and summoning a bottle of wine and a couple glasses.

"You're a witch," he laughed. "I thought that came with broomsticks and the like."

"It does," she said, sitting down on the couch and motioning for him to sit next to her.

"And you don't like flying?" he asked, sitting next to her.

"I was never a fan of heights, but my last few flying experiences weren't all together pleasant, and it's kind of ruined the experience."

"Should I ask?"

"Only if you want to know the full extent of what the magical community is keeping from you," she replied, handing him a glass of wine.

"I think that's one of those things best experienced in small doses, and I've had all I can handle for a while. Though, can I hazard a guess? Some kind of flying horse? I saw a picture of one of those at that bookshop you took me to."

"Think larger. With more teeth, well, maybe not more, but definitely sharper."

"I think that's enough hints," he replied quickly.

"Trust me, whatever you're thinking, it was much less fun to actually have to ride the thing," she smiled. "But, to change the subject: I wanted to thank you for everything today. It was very thoughtful of you, and I had a lot of fun."

"Thank you for not leaving me dateless in front of the press," he shrugged.

She took a sip of her wine, then swirled it in her glass, staring at it as she took a deep breath. "What are we, Tony?" she asked softly.

He swallowed hard before asking, "What do you mean?"

"I mean that I feel like we could sit here as we've done before, talking until one of us is too tired to continue. But all night I feel like something has been different, and for a good portion of the night I've been wondering what would happen if I kissed you."

His face dropped into a stony mask and he looked to the koi pond. "Hermione, you have to know I've wanted you since the moment I saw you, but you deserve better than a one-night fling."

"Why would that be all this is?" she asked.

"I'm broken," he said forcefully, his head jerking up to look her in the eyes. "I can't even handle everything I'm going through myself, how could I possibly be the type of man you deserve a relationship with?"

She smiled kindly, but shook her head. "Do you think you're the only person who is broken? You're not the only one who is broken on this terrace, for Merlin's sake. I'm not going to deny that you and I have very different experiences, have very different losses, and we're going to get over those differently. But if you are honestly telling me that you are never going to have another relationship because you think you're broken... that's on you. You're the one unwilling to let someone in to help pick up your pieces. I realized that recently. And if you never let someone in, it's you choosing to stay broken." She stood and walked toward the door to go inside. Just as she slid the door open his hand circled around her wrist, and she turned to look at him. For the first time since she met him the confidence he normally exuded was gone, and he looked vulnerable.

"I don't want to be broken, Hermione," he murmured. "I just don't want to put the burden of fixing me on you."

"It won't be," she shook her head. "Like the burden of fixing me will never be on you. We need to fix ourselves, but that doesn't mean we can't have support. And, I know you may not think it, but you have been a brilliant support."

Her words seemed to brighten Tony again, and within a second the vulnerability vanished and he was giving her the type of smile that twisted her insides into a knot. "I think I might be ready to see what will happen if you kiss me now," he said, pulling her arm around his waist.

"Are you?" she smirked, stepping closer to him.

"Only one way to find out," he replied. "Well, more than one, but perhaps we should try the one before we move to any of the others..."

"Shut it, Stark," she murmured before pressing her lips to his. There was a moment of hesitation where that was all it was, just a chaste kiss, but once the initial shock that they had finally crossed the physical barrier between them wore off they simultaneously threw themselves into the kiss, their mouths opening so their tongues could meet. She pulled him to her and he pushed her back until she was pressed against the brick wall. He shrugged out of his jacket, then slid his hands up the sides of her dress and around to her front to massage her breasts. She arched her back to press her chest into his hands, one of her arms snaking around his shoulders to steady herself. Breaking their kiss he reached behind her, undoing the clasp keeping the halter top in place, and let the fabric fall to her waist, exposing her chest and, to his surprise, the top of her wand that had been hidden on her side.

"Normally it would be you asking me if that's a wand in my pocket, wouldn't it?" he smirked, drawing the stick from its hiding place.

In response she wrapped a leg around his thigh and pulled roughly, so their hips slid together until she could feel herself sliding across his erection and he drew in a sharp breath. " _That,_ Tony," she started in a husky whisper, "is so much more than a wand."

"Are you sure? I am willing to undergo an inspection," he replied, peppering the words with kisses on her neck.

"I'll take that," she said, prying the wand from her hand and pointing it skyward. A shimmering mist burst from the end, covering the area above them before seeming to dissipate into the night sky.

"Not the kind of release I was thinking of," he said with a smirk.

"Notice-me-not charm," she told him, pulling his head back to her so he could continue kissing her neck and collarbone. "Because I sincerely doubt we're going to make it all the way to the bed."

"My kind of plan," he murmured, and smothered her response with another long kiss.

She dropped her wand and ran her hands up his shirt until he found the bowtie around his neck, which she untied without breaking their kiss, wrapped her hands in the end, and used it to pull him even closer to her so she was completely pinned against the wall, then tossing it to the side and pulling on his shirt. Taking the hint he broke away long enough to rid himself of the garment and the undershirt beneath, and she pulled down a zipper on the side of her dress so it dropped to the ground, leaving her in the shoes and her knickers. He openly gawked at her for a few moments, eyes running over every visible inch of her, and she took the chance to look him over as well. While the reactor was distracting, the rest of his chest was muscular and worth tearing her eyes away from the machine. But both those things paled to the erection straining against his pants, and she brought him back to the moment by reaching out and running her hand over it, admiring his girth and length, bigger than she was used to but not so big she didn't think she could handle him.

"I do believe I've left you speechless, Mr. Stark," she murmured.

"Trust me, it's a compliment," he breathed before pressing himself back to her, lifting her off the ground so her legs were wrapped around his waist, mouth immediately going to her chest. He lavished attention on her breasts, kissing around her mounds before teasing her peaks with suckles, gentle bites, and softly blowing on them. She let her head rest on the brick behind her and savored in his attentions, which occasionally sent a jolt through her that caused her to buck her hips into his, rubbing herself against his erection.

"You keep doing that, Hermione, and I'm not going to be able to wait much longer," he warned.

"Oh, we were waiting for something?" she breathed, looking down at him.

An excited smile crossed his face as he hastily reached between them, unfastening his pants and pushing them and his boxers down far enough to free himself. He then pulled her flimsy knickers to the side and entered her in one quick thrust.

"Bloody hell," she moaned as he stretched her inside, leaving her feeling deliciously full.

"Shit," he murmured, head dropping against her shoulder as he took a few deep breaths and adjusted to the feeling of being inside her. When he started moving he started slow, kissing her as he pulled most of the way out, then pushed back into her. She gripped his shoulders tightly, wanting to feel his body rubbing against hers with each thrust. He started to speed up, tearing his lips from hers and kissing her neck and shoulders while she used her tongue to tease his earlobe. Faster he moved, and she adjusted her hips slightly until she could feel him rubbing against her sweetest spots both inside and out. He stopped kissing her, moving so he could look in her face as she began to tighten around him.

"I want to watch you, Hermione," he whispered, his breathing heavy. "I want to see your face as you come."

She locked eyes with him as her whole body tensed around him, her breath catching in her chest before she finally went over the edge with a loud gasp. She could feel him tense against her as he watched her and felt her pulsing around his cock, and a moment later he came as well, pushing as deep as he could inside her before releasing. They maintained their gaze for a couple seconds before his strength seemed to drain, and he gently let her down before collapsing against her, crashing her lips into hers in a passionate kiss. His fingers wrapped into the hair to hold her to him as he kissed her until both their breathing returned to normal.

"Thank you, Hermione," he whispered against her lips.

"Thank you as well, Tony," she replied. "That was bloody phenomenal."

"It was, but I think I might need to sit down before my legs totally give out."

She chuckled, and let him wrap an arm around her shoulders and guided him to the bedroom, where he laid on the bed, not even bothering to pull his pants back into place. She removed her knickers before climbing in and wrapping herself against him, placing a hand on his chest and resting her chin on it so she could look into his face. With a smile on his face he brought a hand up to trace the lines on her face, and to wind into and out of her curls, and she traced a finger lazily around the arc reactor.

"So, what does this mean, Granger?" he asked after a few minutes.

"I think this means I'm sleeping with my boss," she replied cheekily. "I feel like I should be asking for a raise."

"I will give you a raise as many times as I can manage a day, but I'm only a man, and I'll occasionally need some recovery time," he smirked.

She laughed and shook her head. "I do believe that counts as sexual harassment, Mr. Stark."

"I'm glad you took it as that, and not that I'm going to up your paychecks several times a day."

"Well, if you want to make that offer..."

"Hermione, Stark Industries does not make enough to pay you what you're worth. I got you for a steal. It was the best deal I've ever made, because it certainly got me much more than I bargained for, and more than I deserve."

She blushed and smiled. "What I truly think this means is what it means in pretty much any relationship. We get to know each other better, we have amazing sex, and do what we can to make this work out between us so hopefully it lasts a long time. I don't think we get to skip any steps based on history if we want this to work properly."

"I think that works," he nodded.

"Good. Because I've been wanting this for a while."

"You and me both," he smiled.

"I think we're all in agreement, then," she smiled, turning and looking pointedly down at his erection, which had grown once more, becoming long enough to poke her in the elbow.

"I wouldn't give him a vote if I were you," Tony smirked. "He really has problems controlling himself, he's extremely susceptible to feminine wiles, and he's kind of pushy."

She laughed again, then sat up and started sliding his pants off. "Pushy can be a good thing," she mused. "So long as it happens in appropriate places. Don't think this means I'm going to run off to have passionate dalliances during team training sessions."

"Actually I think we should talk to Cap about that, because I'm pretty sure what we just did out on the terrace counts as a workout," he paused and inhaled sharply as she bent to kiss his inner thigh just above his knee. "It really is the kind of workout I'm willing to do..." he paused again as she kissed a little higher. "It's, um..." She kissed him again. He fumbled for words as she kept kissing higher, and finally gave up. "Shit, that's the best kind of distraction," he finally groaned.

"That is?" she asked, kissing where his leg met his groin. "Or this?" she smiled coyly before running her tongue up the underside of his cock.

"Fuck!" he cried out, head falling back against the pillow before snapping back up to look at her. "They both have their charms," he managed. "I might need a little more research..."

She lowered her head to take him in her mouth, and was rewarded with another loud profanity before Tony seemed to loose the ability to speak. He propped himself up on his elbows to watch her, and it thrilled her to see his eyes eagerly drinking up the sight before him. It was even more thrilling to watch him lose control of even that, falling unceremoniously back on the bed as she sucked him hard and slowly, his eyes shut and his breath heaving in his chest. She could tell he was close, could tell he had to fight not to lift his hips and shove himself as far in as she could take him. Without warning his hand wound into her hair and he pulled her off him, staring into her eyes for a moment as he came back from the edge.

"God, that was good, Granger, but I think it's time I returned the favor," he said, pulling her up to kiss him before pushing her down on the bed and settling himself between her legs. Tony wasn't much for taking his time, his fingers immediately running through her folds until he found her nub. He circled it with his index finger a few times before lowering his head and replacing his finger with his tongue. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back as she reached out to twist her fingers in his hair. He took his cues from her moans, gasps, and the movements of her hips, and when she started to feel her orgasm coming on he redoubled his efforts, and she cried his name as her second orgasm of the night ripped through her.

He slowly kissed up her body as she came down from her high, and kissed her as he slowly entered her again. The frantic nature of their first coupling had diminished, and it was time for them to learn each others bodies better. Their kisses were slow and smoldering, their movements fell into an easy rhythm, and they pressed their bodies together to maximize their contact. By the time they came together each was holding tightly to the other, and when they laid side by side after they maintained their hold on each other. No more words passed between them that night, just the occasional kiss before they fell asleep, and for the first time in months each slept through the night without a nightmare.

XXXXXXXXX

 _8 months later_

Hermione woke up first, feeling Tony wrapped around her nude body despite the heat of the summer morning coming in through the doors they had left open in an attempt to catch a breeze. She looked up at her sleeping lover, it wasn't often that she was awake before Tony, but he had gotten back from Los Angeles the night before, complaining about his difficulties sleeping while there was a country between them. The nightmares weren't totally gone, each would occasionally wake up in terror in the middle of the night, but the other was quick to soothe them, and more often then not they were able to sleep the rest of the night without a disruption. Hermione had noticed a difference in Tony over their time together, he drank less, his ideas were grander but more realistic at the same time, and he was quick to involve other members of their team where before he had preferred to work alone. Their days were spent in one of their labs bouncing ideas off each other or working in concentrated silence that didn't need words. Their nights were spent between one of their spaces, he enjoyed her place because of the privacy and the simplicity of it, but often they were too engrossed in each other to want to take the trip. For all the time they spent together they had kept the papers guessing if they were actually together or not, a calculated move on their parts as she preferred to keep things as low-key, or at least as low-key as possible when her lover was such a media darling. Their relationship was effortless, but those who spent time around them knew that their feelings ran deep.

She watched him for a couple minutes, then carefully extracted herself from his arms. She slipped a nightie over her head, went into the bathroom to relieve herself and brush her hair and teeth, then she quietly walked past the bed and went into the kitchen to start breakfast. On the table was a letter, one she had been neglecting to reply to for some time, but that she knew she'd have to respond to soon. Most of it was covered, trying to keep it from Tony's prying eyes, but she couldn't help but skim the few visible sentences:

 _You are coming home for your birthday, and we are simply no longer accepting 'no' for an answer. Mum is going spare, you haven't been by in over a year and she's worried sick about you living alone in that big city in a country so far away from your family. If you don't come here, we're coming there, don't think that's an idle threat, Harry has already gotten permission for three portkeys. I know what you're hiding, Granger, and I can't believe you have not at least written to give me all the sordid details of you and that handsome billionaire you brought to my Quidditch game. The papers have been guessing at it for months now and the best thing about it is the rumor that the Malfoys are fuming because he's got more money than they do, and that means you've bested Draco in pretty much everything..._

She sighed and pushed the letter under a book so it was fully hidden. She loved corresponding with Ginny, but the woman was quite the gossip, and the last thing she needed was to wreck what she had with Tony by putting a label on it or making their lives seem more entwined than they were. They were quite happy with things the way they were going, and she wasn't keen on letting her pushy, brash redheaded friend spoil that via written word. Still, Ginny had a point, she hadn't been home in quite some time and she was starting to miss her friends greatly. Vowing to gently introduce Tony to the idea, or plan a solo trip, she got to making breakfast. She had just cracked a couple eggs into a pan when she felt arms wrap around her from behind.

"Morning, sweetheart," he murmured against her neck before giving it a prolonged kiss.

"Sleep well?" she asked.

"Very," he replied, kissing her again. "So... your birthday is in a few weeks," he mused, his hand running over her nightgown and slowly coming up to cup her breast. "I was thinking of taking a vacation. Where would you like to go?"

"Home," she answered without hesitation, but he immediately froze.

"Hermione..."

"We've been together eight months. I think it's the time we take that next step in our relationship."

"I'm completely in agreement with you there," he muttered.

"You are?" she asked in surprise.

"Yes. In fact, I had been thinking of just taking that step without talking about it. I think we're at the point in this that we can wear sweats around each other without things getting weird."

"Tony..." she groaned, but she was unable to stop herself from letting off a chuckle. "I'm serious. I haven't been back in a while because I've been busy with work and you, but I've been missing them. They are my friends, my family. They don't want or need grandiose displays of wealth or wit or anything like that. They'll want to meet you, and there's very little you could do to make them think ill of you. If we don't go over there for my birthday they're going to come over here, so it's going to happen, and I thought it would be best to be low-key about it. Besides, I have been craving Molly's Sunday dinner, and that's something that simply has to be done at the Burrow. Better than any five-star restaurant."

He was silent for a moment as he thought, resting his head on her shoulder as she turned the stove off, knowing what would soon be coming. She reached up to run her fingers through his hair, closed her eyes, and leaned against him.

"You liked Ginny," she reminded him.

"That redhead was all fire and snappy comebacks and it was like talking to a less-hostile Romanoff. You're talking about a much larger group," he countered.

"If you bring the suit, you could probably join in a game of Quidditch," she added.

"I thought magic interfered with technology."

"The Burrow has minimal spells now that it's peace time. There's not enough to make your suit malfunction if you keep it on the Quidditch pitch. It won't work in the house, but there's less in the field. I'll probably have to keep you out of the house proper as much as possible anyway, I don't know how your arc reactor is going to respond, though if you have a problem I promise we'll leave and stay in the Muggle world. I'll find a vacation house to rent if I must."

He thought for another minute. "Okay," he finally murmured. "But I get to pick the house we're renting and I get at least two... make that three days of playing tourist."

"Agreed," she murmured, turning her head to catch his lips. He seemed to remember that he hand a handful of her breast, and he began to massage the orb through the fabric, and she could feel him growing behind her.

"You already turned off the stove," he chuckled.

"A dozen or so burnt eggs later I've finally learned that when you come in like this I'm going to be distracted for a while."

"Well, now I'm feeling the pressure to perform."

"Luckily for me you consider that a challenge."

"I'm getting predictable," he said with a mock sigh.

"In this case predictable is desirable. Now, are you going to do anything, or..." she paused as she reached behind her and, finding him nude, took his erection in her hand, "... do I have to take matters into my own hands?"

"Both options have their own merits," he chuckled. "But I'm going to need a little more than you giving me a hand if I'm going to forget what I just agreed to do."

He pulled the snug nightgown up so it sat around her waist, and she guided him into her, letting off a soft moan as he pushed in and slipped a hand between her legs at the same time. She let her head fall back so he could kiss her neck and shoulders, his other hand playing lazily with her breasts as she let off soft moans of approval. When he started to speed up she grabbed the side of the counter and leaned forward to give him better access. He took his time bringing her to climax, letting her get close before slowing down, abandoning her nub and bending to kiss her back, then starting again, and repeating the process several times until he was close to the edge himself and he brought them to climax together. He held her for a while after, randomly kissing whatever skin he could reach.

"I'm pretty sure I let the pan get cold," she pointed out a few minutes later. "I'm going to have to start the eggs again."

"Let's go out," he said before giving her a final kiss and letting her go. "We can discuss vacation houses over brunch. And dates, so I can make sure the jet is ready."

"Don't want to take another Portkey?" she smirked, remembering their last attempt, as they were coming home from a Quidditch game, had him bent over the toilet for nearly fifteen minutes.

"Never again," he assured her.

She turned around and watched him walk back into the bedroom to get dressed. As she started to clean the pan she noticed a light on her cell phone blinking, indicating she had a message waiting. She opened it up to find a text from Fury, asking her to stop by and analyze something one of his team members had found hidden in some ruins in India. As she agreed to come by she realized that she hadn't heard from her former boss since a month after she and Tony had became a couple, when Fury had loudly lamented that "Only you two could take 'emotionally support each other until you're both in a better place' and turn it into fucking like rabbits!" Still, she knew Fury was pleased with the amount of work they were putting out, and knew her mission had been a complete success.

Tony came into view just then, wearing the pair of jeans she loved most on him, and ruffling his hair as he prepared to style it back into what he thought was an effortless look that she knew took at least ten minutes. Thoughts of Fury went out the window as she walked to the bedroom to delay brunch a little longer.


End file.
